


This House of Cards I’ve Built with My Own Two Hands

by kittybobo



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Implied time loop, M/M, Maruki as an actual therapist sort of, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 65,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybobo/pseuds/kittybobo
Summary: Kurusu Akira had been through a lot in his past year in Tokyo, he'd made connections, shot a god in the face, shaken the foundations of the entire corrupt society that had wronged him and everyone around him. So what now? What does he do with the people he's painstakingly maintained careful ties with now that he doesn't have to worry about the fate of the world? Does he get to be normal? What does that even mean for someone like him anymore? Why does his head hurt so much?A retelling of third semester from the POV of Kurusu Akira and occasionally Akechi Goro with various flashbacks from the year past. Basically an AU where the relationship between the thieves, specifically Akira, and Maruki is expanded upon and one where "Igor" was a much more of a controlling influence and the fallout that results from that.DISCLAIMER: Not intended to be a accurate portrayal of mental health issues or dissociation.UPDATE 11/23/20: Going through the chapters currently up to fix some spelling, grammar, wording, etc.  Going to try to change the formatting a little so it's less of a mess and more cohesive. It didn't look so bad on the PC but on mobile some paragraphs feel a little bit like walls of text.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Kurusu Akira/ Yoshizawa Kasumi (one-sided)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	1. Careful What You Wish For…

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic in I'm not sure how many years and I've never written on here so wish me luck, lol. I really liked Royal and was fascinated by the dynamic between Maruki and Protag as well as the one with Akechi and got this idea to write a simple expansion on events that kept snowballing in a whole retelling of third semester.

Akira’s eyes opened slowly to blurred vision and he felt himself blink instinctively to try to clear his view and wash away the grogginess that sat heavy in his bones. He felt himself sit up slightly as if he was being nudged forward. _Another nightmare?_ He managed to think before the fogginess in his brain momentarily subsided into pain. He bent down and clutched his head as it spiked. Confusion set in as the pain settled into a dull ache. _Where am I?_ He looked around briefly, if this was a nightmare it was definitely new one.

His life as a phantom thief had given him plenty of bad dreams, it just came with the territory of stealing the distorted desires of disturbed adults and the occasional teenager. He had lost count of the things he had wished he’d never seen and near-death experiences he'd weathered. It had always felt far removed, the bruises and gashes rarely carried over into the real world as if their actions in the cognitive world where they operated would never catch up with them. They were of course young and stupid. The night terrors that started after his night in the “interrogation” room however, had made his previous bad dreams all seem like vacations. Those bruises, gashes and broken ribs didn’t magically go away even when he covered them up and tried his best not to wince whenever his friends touched him. It had only gotten worse after what his fellow thieves carefully referred to as the “engine room incident”. One the brief moments he ever let his “fearless leader” shtick crack. His thoughts had gotten away from him again an annoying habit that had only gotten worse since his temporary stay with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police.

He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. He checked his hand, it looked solid enough. He had so far only endured one mercifully brief nightmare involving watching his friends fading from existence _again_ before seeing his own hands slowly disappear. He had hoped it wouldn’t become a new addition on his near nightly playlist. Still this wasn’t the streets of Shibuya, or the interrogation room, or the engine room…it was…

“Class will be dismissed momentarily” a female sounding voice echoed over the PA system. 

_Huh?_ was all he managed to think before the voice came back on repeating the same line in a creepy distorted voice. Overwhelming confusion once more blunted the ache in his brain allowing another thought to surface, _Class?_ He looked around again briefly, this wasn’t a classroom but it felt disturbingly familiar. The nurses’ office came to mind but then that didn’t explain the familiarity. Kurusu Akira and by extension Joker, leader of the infamous Phantom Thieves of Hearts, DID NOT get sick. Well maybe he did, but between his back-alley doctor with her experimental and totally not suspicious laundry list of self-made medicines and his ungodly ability to deflect questions about himself nobody ever seemed to notice.

He shook his head again and sighed, sitting here wasn’t going to jog his memory so he made what he thought would be the simple effort to stand up. His whole body felt like it was stuck in molasses, just walking towards the door took effort. It occurred to him that it was nighttime or at least it appeared to be. The room was dark and aside from that momentary interruption over the P.A. it was eerily quiet. He opened the door and stepped outside to the murky but still recognizable halls of Shujin Academy in what appeared to the practice building. Now in the slightly better lit hallway he noticed he was wearing his tattered prison uniform, that usually meant he was- his thoughts were interrupted by the pleasant chime of school bell signifying the end of classes and that it was time to go home.

 _Home_ , his mind became filled with the images of a warm café imbued with the delicious scents of coffee and curry, filled with the sounds of laughter from his family, his friends…save one. He pushed that thought down as soon as it surfaced. He needed to get out of here. He traipsed down the barely lit hallway with shallow breaths. His vision still seemed a little hazy for some reason, the room signs were slightly blurry and his head was still filled with fog. He made it a few steps before his vision flashed red…

_“…what do you want me to say? I’m always effin things up, at school, with my ma…with my… friends. I’m worried I’m just going end up like…anyways so yeah sometimes I still wonder what it would have been like to get that scholarship an’ how it would have made things easier on my mom…”_

It was a male sounding voice and he heard the initial bitter fire in it slowly die out. There was another sense of familiarity, altogether different and much warmer this time, and something else he couldn’t place. Akira couldn’t help but feel he was forgetting something extremely important but the more he tried to think the more the fog in his brain was replaced by the dull ache that threatened to spill over into a full blown migraine. He decided to keep moving. He didn’t get much further down the hallway before a small blue light burst out of nowhere and quickly took the shape of a butterfly. It started to fly away slowly into the darkness as if it was beckoning him to follow. A strange wave of déjà vu washed over him as he felt his legs move towards the shiny blue bug. As he walked another flash of red clouded his vision momentarily before another voice, female sounding this time, echoed above him.

_“…I have other people besides Shiho now so it’s not like I am all alone and I might not have met them otherwise but I do still find myself wondering… if all that stuff never happened with him she would still be here any then maybe…maybe I’d…its nothing, like you said before you can’t erase tragedy…”_

This voice sounded a touch sadder than the first, but maybe slightly more resolved. Something curls in his gut that he can't quite place. He kept moving, following the blue butterfly’s trail till he found himself in the school courtyard. He continued to amble along having to make a certain effort to keep himself moving trying to ignore the strange heaviness in his legs. He got about a few steps in before another flash of red forced him to pause.

_“…yes recognition, like we discussed previously, for my mother’s painting to be seen for the masterwork it truly is…and yes I suppose having a real master as well. Maybe then I can truly paint true beauty and desire…”_

The male sounding voice booms in his head with a sense of longing. His legs are able to move again and he slowly makes the way across the courtyard but near the end there is another flash of red. He hears another voice, once again a female-sounding one but with a more serious tone to it…

  
_“…we never really talked about it, I don’t even know how, or even I should. Like I said my sister has been doing so much, it was just me and her after our father… it’s still unfair to demand any more of her…”_

He suddenly felt a certain sense of loss he couldn’t comprehend. He entered the classroom side of the building. He took a moment to try to get his bearings but that just made the dull ache throb. He lurched forward towards the shiny blue trail only be treated to another red flash and another voice echoing through the dim and entirely empty classroom hallways.

_“Yeah it was nice talking about my mom again…she always tried to make time for me…even…anyway I gotta go…”_

This voice started strong but then sounded nervous and small. He lurched forward as if he could catch that voice, he felt something wrap around his heart and squeeze. He stumbled down the hallway till another flash hit him.

_“…I’ve been talking to someone about it. Even with everything going on…I want to help manage Okumura Foods. I’m not sure how yet …even after everything that happened…I still want to make my father proud…”_

This one sounded too sweet and too nice and Akira felt a small pang in his heart but he didn’t understand why. The urge to remember was quickly suppressed by pain, he kept moving. His legs felt more numb by the second and he barely felt his feet dragging along the polished wooden floor. He was almost the school doors now, his body felt heavier and heavier.

He paused when he heard a little jingle and a voice over the intercom asking him, “Where are you going?”

“Home” he blearily replied.

“Home?” the voice questioned, “Which one?” Akira didn’t have a reply. His mind was too filled with an unhappy balance of fog and pain. “Hmmm...” the voice continued, “So you still haven’t decided.” Akira was finding difficult to form thoughts at this point but was able to briefly ponder what he was supposed to decide before the voice broke in again, “That makes sense since you haven’t accepted _him_ yet either…” Akira felt a bolt of pain smacking against him like a sledgehammer striking a steel wall. “Don’t worry I remember what we talked about, I won’t force you.” The diplomatic tone the voice had turned on seemed to soften as it added “Let’s meet again…” 

Akira noticed the doors were now open an inky darkness seemingly clinging to the glass. He began to lumber towards them as the walls faded all around him.

He once again opened his eyes but this time saw the comfortingly familiar sight of glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. He smiled for a brief moment reminiscing on the memory they invoked, Yusuke's wide passionate eyes as he marveled at the wonders of the universe, before quickly frowning. Just what was with that strange dream? He struggled to recollect it but the details seemed to slip through his mind the more he tried. He could remember being at school and hearing a few different voices but he couldn’t recall who was speaking or exactly what was said. Perhaps he was just nervous about the New Year and new semester that awaited him after all that had happened the past year. The past month alone had brought with it so many changes. He thought back to what his friends had said last night during their New Year’s Eve get together.

_“A hell of a lot happened this year, didn’t it?” Ryuji chimed in after the broadcaster on the T.V. made a comment on how people were spending the holiday across the country._

_Akira shifted his head a tiny bit towards his best friend but didn’t quite look at him. Leave it to Ryuji to lay out flat what had been an absolutely crazy year capped off by Akira summoning what appeared to be the lord of demons and shooting a god in the face. He almost got trapped in a memory again, that of seeing his friend’s expression mixed in awe but also a tinge of fear…he squashed those thoughts before they could fester._

_“I know right? I feel like I somehow lived out several years in just nine months!” Ann piped up._

_Yeah that was a mood Akira found himself relating to all too hard. He had pretty much slept through the week after Christmas the exhaustion of pushing himself past his limits, repeatedly, finally crashing down around him now that he didn’t have a false god proselytizing an ever-present doom. Now that he didn't have some half-baked destiny looming over him like a sword ready to drop at a moment’s notice. He struggled to recall the nearly full year of juggling thief life, school, and the numerous bonds he’d been constantly reminded would be essential to “avoid ruin”. It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps that too had all been a part of Yaldabaoth‘s game, continuously reminding him how important his bonds were to the point he had crafted an impressive house of cards to contain it all._

_“I doubt we’ll experience anything quite like it for a while,” Yusuke mused._

_Akira wasn’t sure at first how to feel about that. A mixture of sensations rushed into his brain as he remembered the crushing power that vibrated his whole body when he had raised his gun, a once plain model made deadly by cognition, feeling the presence behind him do the same. He had never felt anything like it before or since, save for maybe his awakening with Arsène. It wasn’t a mere manifestation of rebellion or a persona born from the sea of souls he had incorporated within his psyche, it was him and he was it completely and utterly. It was amazing and terrifying all at once and yet…he had felt same wicked grin stretching across his face, the same one from when he had first tapped into that strength. He hadn't understood what Arsène had meant then " …though you be chained to hell itself." An older sounding voice brought him back out his head, his fellow thief Makoto’s older sister Niijima Sae._

_“Well, I won’t pretend to know what you kids have been through but I really hope that holds true” the older woman confided._

_Akira held a sigh, a small part of him deep down wanted to yell back at her telling her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t fucking care what she thought. He wondered if he’d always carry that small antagonism, as if it was all her fault for thinking of his various contacts and friends in purely transactional ways when he had recount the previous year to her in order to win her trust in what was the dumbest gamble in his life. Then again perhaps this new year wouldn’t be so bad. Sure he’d miss being able to dive into the Metaverse to change hearts but the idea of no longer having to constantly maintain the image of a perfect leader, flawless student, impeccable friend...it definitely had its own appeal too. Even if he had let his fellow thieves in a fraction closer after nearly getting erased from existence together he still felt that as long as he was leader of the Phantom Thieves there were some walls that would have to maintain intact. He tried and failed to recall what he was like before he started wearing so many masks inside the Metaverse and out. It didn’t really matter it wasn't like he any any desire to go back to that version of Akira anyway._

_“Looks like we’ll just be good boys and girls at school starting next year,” Ryuji replied with a toothy smile to her comment._

_Akira grinned, the blonde boy had a way of pulling him out of dour moods. He conceded that he probably would always have a lingering soft spot for his best friend but he had long cut out the feeling that had once rooted in his chest, spending long nights in the Velvet Room hanging personas until even Caroline had had enough. Akira realized the conversation had switched to chiding Ryuji’s poor studying habits. Akira joined in shooting Ryuji his best “I’m only messing with you bro” look, Ryuji pretended to be annoyed for a second before giving off another blinding smile. Maybe things were going to be ok from now on._

Akira sat up in bed a dull ache sat in his brain but he pushed it down. _New year new me!_ he internally resolved and before he could mull over how cheesy that sounded his phone rang. 

“Good morning,” rang out the cheery voice of Yoshizawa Kasumi, “Were you still asleep Kusuru-senpai?”

Technically he had been awake at least for several minutes now thinking about last night but he decided to fall back on his rehearsed charms.

“Well I’m up now,” he replied trying to sound subtly excited.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!” the younger girl quickly apologized. Akira grinned and resisted the urge to laugh. “I feel awkward asking you this now that I’ve woke you up but…” Akira felt a tiny pang of guilt, he hadn’t meant to trip her up THAT much. _So much for New Year, new me_ he thought a little dejected. “Do you remember promising me that’d we’d go pay our respects at the shrine together on New Year’s day?”

Akira stayed quiet for a moment trying to whip his sluggish brain into overdrive. He vaguely remembered promising Kasumi they’d do something after everything was over and reaffirming it before the Phantom Thieves took down Shido Masayoshi , the man who had ruined or rather had _tried_ to ruin Akira’s life. Yet another promise he had worried he wasn’t going to be able to keep. He quickly pulled himself away from that line of thinking.

“Kinda” he replied softly. It wasn’t really a lie.

“Great!” she beamed. “Well today’s the day,” her voice got softer, “if you want to keep that promise…” There was a slight pause before she picked up again a sounding a little more sure of herself, “I realize this may be a bit forward of me, but…” she faltered but only for a moment, “What do you say to accompanying me to Meji Shrine this afternoon?”

Akira didn’t answer immediately nearly biting his tongue before a sarcastic comment came out. _New year new me_ he repeated to himself. What would be a normal teenage response? Should he act flustered? Should he act casual? In what felt for the first time in quite a long time Akira didn’t have ready made response to fall back on. 

“Uh Kurusu-senpai? Are you still there? If you don’t-“

“Sounds good,” he cut her off. _Off to a GREAT start_ he felt some part of his brain chide him.

“Uh ok well, hopefully it won’t be too crowded in the afternoon,” the cheer came back into her voice but it was a little muted now. 

_Nice going Kurusu_ his brain teased him. He didn’t remember when his brain had starting referring to him in third person. He didn’t really want to think about the fact it had possibly started sometime after having to carry several personas in his head and often relying on them to navigate not just the Metaverse but the intense web of lies and half-truths his personal life had become. He does remember when it started calling him by his family name in a saccharine tone that reminded him of…He doesn’t want to think about that though. _Shit_ he exclaimed in his head, he had gone quiet again hadn’t he? Old habits being hard to break he drew upon familiar well, a seemingly endless reservoir of snark.

“Ugh crowds” he whined perhaps laying it on a bit thick. The idea of elbowing his way to the shrine and having little to no room to bow DID sound kind of awful though. He heard Kasumi giggle over the phone. _Nice save Kurusu_.

“Yes I agree with that feeling! I’ll be sure to pray to the gods so it won’t be crowded!” The cheer in her voice seemed to be once again in full force. “Oh wait,” she gasped, quickly following up before Akira could speculate what was wrong, “I hope that doesn't count as making a wish before I make my offering.”

Akira let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He stifled a laugh that he hoped was covered up by Sojiro’s, voice booming from downstairs asking him if he was awake yet. The Boss, his guardian and almost surrogate dad at this point, understandably hadn’t given him a hard time for his sleeping habits the days after Christmas leading up to New Year’s but it seemed like his patience had run out.

“That’s Boss calling me so I gotta go,” he said not even aware if she heard Sojiro over the phone.\

“I see, let’s meet at the shrine around noon then” she replied before adding cheerfully “See you then!”

Before he could come up with a regular non-sarcastic age-appropriate reply he realized she had hung up. _Oh well_ he mused. He heard Sojiro call out again this time asking for help. Working for a bit sounded like a good distraction from the minor headache still kicking around in his brain. Rather than yell downstairs and aggravate what he hoped was just a lingering headache from staying up late last night he texted Sojiro. After pulling on the usual off-white long sleeve shirt and black jeans he usually wore while working he looked down at his phone.

**IM Chat: -Boss-**

**Attic Kid** : Yeah. Be down in 5.

He hadn’t replied and Sojiro’s dinosaur of a phone didn’t seem to have a read receipt function to signify he had at least checked. Akira smoothed out his shirt and fruitlessly tried to smooth out his persistently frizzy hair before ambling down the stairs. He stopped near the top and turned back for a moment to quickly scan the room. He hadn’t seen Morgana since last night when his feline shaped roommate tentatively curled up by his chest to sleep. He hadn’t slept like that in a while due to Akira’s persistent nightmares that sometimes made the boy bolt right up out of bed but after almost a week of relatively sound sleep Morgana had felt comfortable enough to sleep on top the heavy duvet that Akira slept with now that the temperature had dropped considerably. He stood up straighter to peer at the window above the futon that was his bed. It didn’t look ajar but Akira rationalized that perhaps Morgana had figured a way to close it behind himself after the last time Akira nearly chewed him out for leaving it open when his furry roommate had decided to take a morning stroll on an exceptionally chilly winter morning. Sojiro was waiting so Akira made his way down the rest of the stairs and pushed away the dumb invasive thought of Morgana disappearing again. He mulled over their conversation from late last night as he wordlessly nodded to Sojiro who was in the middle of an order, put on his apron, and began to get to work.

_He finished flicking through the Phantom Thieves’ group chat and he heard Morgana hum in mild discontentment. He looked over at him and listened as his friend began to speak._

_“Hey Akira don’t tell this to the others okay?” Morgana voice had a certain uncharacteristic softness to it as he asked._

_The black-haired teen turned his head just a little. Usually it was Akira asking him that question, mostly about his sleeping habits which were near impossible to conceal to the person that usually spent every night with him._  
_Morgana either didn’t notice or simply ignored his compatriot’s quizzical look and continued on explaining what it had been like when he had been forced to separate from the group, for what he thought would have been forever, after the fall of Yaldabaoth and the destruction of the Metaverse. Scared and desperately wanting to find your way back home clinging to the idea like a lifeline, yeah Akira knew what that felt like perhaps more than he’d like._

_Morgana finished by saying “That’s why I was so glad I was able to come back here,” he looked at Akira expectantly seemingly waiting for a response._

_Akira for once had too much to say but his lips remained closed. They had shared so much over the past year he wasn’t sure what to say, sure there were a lot of things he had never told Morgana but he could say that about anyone. There was only one person (maybe two but that person didn’t count as far as he was concerned) Akira had ever really opened up to and that had been an accident, a momentary relapse in judgement. Akira put his thoughts back on track, thinking how he could express the absolute hole in his heart when he thought Morgana was gone for good._

_“Welcome home,” Akira managed to say, immediately feeling stupid since Morgana had been back for several days now. He decided to tack on, “little brother,” with a grin remembering their post-Christmas dinner talk where after he'd declared Morgana family the cat-shaped companion affirmed he’d be Akira’s “older” brother._

_“I thought we agreed I was the older brother,” he grumbled. Akira didn’t bother retorting simply playfully rolling his eyes. “Hey,” Morgana sounded serious again, “I know I’ve said something like this before but I hope we keep sticking together.” Akira gave an almost imperceptible nod and wondered if he should say something else when Morgana cut in with “It’s pretty late, we should sleep.”_

_“What are you my mom or my brother huh?” Akira said in an obvious joking tone, falling back on one of his pillars of social interaction. Now Morgana rolled his eyes, as much as he could given his form._

A wave of pain emanating from his head brought Akira back to present, his hands pruny and hot from the sink he had been washing dishes in. The café around him seemed to glimmer for a brief moment in sickening greens and pinks. When his vision cleared and the pain settled back into a barely noticeable ache, he faintly heard Sojiro apologizing for something, something having to do with work being his first experience of the New Year. He finished rinsing his hands, flung them dry and gave a slight shrug before placing them into his pockets. He heard Sojiro wishing him a Happy New Year from behind him. He slowly turned and wished him the same.

“And I hope you’ll continue getting along with Futaba and myself,” he heard the man say in tone that was a little too cheery for this early in the morning. 

Akira stood in place tuning out the conversation that had struck up between the two elderly patrons and the Boss. _Get along_? Akira thought to himself, that was one way of putting it he guessed. Hadn’t the man said he was family after Akira put himself on the line for both his adopted daughter and him? Akira felt more connection to them than his real family who still after all this time had never once checked up on the son they had dumped on what equated to a stranger. He felt the icy comfort of settled resentment towards his parents melt into anger as he realized he’d have to return to them in less than three months.

“Oh by the way don’t forget to finish the paperwork for Shujin, I know we still have time before the deadline but still…” he heard Sojiro say as a quick aside to him but didn’t comprehend what the café owner was telling him. “I already talked to your parents about it remember?” he added seeming to sense Akira’s confusion.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it as the young man Akira hadn’t paid much attention became the center of the conversation. He was sitting at the counter, body half turned away in the chair. The very first thing Akira noticed was that he was disturbingly handsome and a slightly gutsier version of himself who didn’t currently have Sojiro standing next to him _might_ have fished for his number. That is until he looked at his eyes when he heard the young man speak, apparently to him. They were bright and blue and weirdly familiar. _Damnit what did he say, something about happy new year?_ he fretted. _Better think of something quick Kurusu._

“It’s nice to meet you,” he spoke trying to manage an even tone and a curt smile. _Nice one Kurusu_ he could feel the false sincerity dripping from the voice slithering in his head.

“Nice to meet you?” the young man repeated sounding slightly surprised. “Very funny,” he rolled his eyes. The young man seemed like he was going to say more but he was interrupted by the jingle of the door opening. 

In walked a girl in green kimono with red, orange, and pink flowers her orange hair pinned in a messy bun with two thick strands hanging down across her face and a green flowery shaped hairpin adorning her head. She held a bright blue bag that also had flower designs on it. Akira couldn’t help but smile at his surrogate little sister with a bit of pride. Happy and surprised that he she seemed to holding a conversation with the elderly patrons with no hesitation. He almost didn’t hear her when she said she had picked out the outfit with her mom. 

“Your mom?” Akira spoke softly more in abject confusion that as a question. 

Before Akira could apologize for bringing up the touchy subject Futaba had sidestepped what he said entirely mentioning that she didn’t want to be late before saying a cheesy line and turning to walk right back out. Akira scratched the back of his neck, guess he wasn’t the only one taking the _“New Year new me”_ tactic?

He vaguely overheard the elderly couple mentioning something about not having any more wishes that needed granting. _Who says stuff like that?_ Akira idly wondered to himself before the chirp of his phone got his attention. It was Kasumi informing him over text that she’d be at the shrine sooner than expected due to it not actually being all that crowded. Akira responded to her saying that maybe her wish had already been granted as an inside joke to really himself more than anything. 

She replied saying she’d wait by the entrance and he didn’t have to hurry. The thought of her waiting alone made Akira’s stomach churn just a little. The frown on his face must have not gone unnoticed since Sojiro piped up asking him if he had any plans. When the teen affirmed that he did the older man relented saying that he should have just told him as much and that he could go ahead and get going. Akira nodded quickly, shucking off his apron and going back upstairs to change into some more appropriate attire, not bothering to question the fact that the Boss should realize by now Akira wasn’t really the type to speak up for himself like that at least not when it came to the Boss.

After swiftly washing his face and brushing his teeth in the café bathroom he bolted upstairs. He rifled through the boxes that served as an impromptu dresser. He had once considered buying a cheap one for himself but the thought of carrying it up to the attic above Leblanc after business hours even with Ryuji’s help and then possibly having to carry it back down once he had to leave was up didn’t appeal much. It was the same reason he'd never bothered to get a proper bed frame either on top of the only recently obvious fact that Sojiro wouldn't have minded.

Still despite the strides he'd made with his guardian during his time here, going from harsh indifference to what he thought was a near familial affinity, he had implied something Akira never thought possible. The idea that he could actually stay here, at least to finish school. Regardless of his feelings that he’d be imposing on his guardian he had figured his parents just wouldn’t let him. Ironically the news that his probation might be overturned only strengthened those feelings, they had a chance to get their precious “perfect” son back although Akira knew things would never quite be the same. Were they actually fine with him not coming home? No one from his home town had tried to contact him since coming to Tokyo but he had spent countless hours thinking about what he might say when he returned. He knew the old him wouldn’t have even entertained the thought of confronting his parents. Was it something he really needed to do?

He had always planned to end up in Tokyo after graduation anyway, although it was supposed to be studying on route for a doctorate in a “distinguished profession fitting of a Kurusu." That clearly wasn’t going to happen now. Did he want to continue living in an attic though? Having mostly free roam of the place at night definitely had its upsides but having to go the bathhouse any time he wanted a proper shower coupled with the constant prerequisite to not make too much noise during business hours was a little annoying even if it had been a while since Sojiro had bothered him or his friends about being too loud. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ask if he could stay with Sojiro in his actual house. Would he actually prefer that even? He cleared his head he could worry about all that later. 

Akira pulled out a different cleaner pair of jeans, a snug black turtleneck, and a long grey coat with large stylish black buttons. He had decided to continue to dress a little conservatively whenever he went out, still a little paranoid and suspicious about both the police and the remnants of Shido’s men. Even if his alter ego had a flair for the dramatic it would have to continue go unappeased here in the real world. He wouldn’t ever admit it but he appreciated it whenever Morgana would approve of his sensible fashion choices. As he made his way towards the stairs he wondered again where he'd gone since he still wasn’t back yet. He pursed his lips slightly, he didn’t want to keep Kasumi waiting. He did a final check of his bag and looked back at one of crates underneath the bed. He was going to be normal today, he didn’t need that. He waved goodbye to Sojiro as he left and headed towards the train.


	2. New Year New Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira goes to Meiji Shrine with Kasumi and tries not to spend too much time in his own head. He fails miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I never tagged Akira/Ryuji (one sided) but its doesn't come up often and isn't a huge factor in the story in and of itself.

Akira snagged his usual spot, leaning up against the partition that framed the train car doors. The train ride was quieter than normal so he dug into his jacket pocket for his earbuds and decided to listen to something since he wouldn’t have the constant jostling of passengers or Morgana to keep him grounded. He was all too familiar now of the danger of letting himself stay inside his own head for too long. Before he could regret not bringing what he had left behind in the crate he put on some music. He queued up a song he had originally only put on his phone to soothe one of his personas but now it didn’t quite hit the same way.

He wasn’t sure how to feel. Did he really miss having different facets of himself and his personal bonds clearly represented within him? Not that he ever clearly understood the process anyway. After all why had certain personas felt closer than others despite not necessarily thinking he was _that_ close to the person the bond represented? Especially _those_ \- he managed to forcibly clear his mind. The music didn’t seem to be helping. He brought out his phone again to just change the song. Something seemed to stir in him right before he pressed the arrow to go to the next one.

The train slowed and he faintly heard the announcement for Shibuya. He got off at the stop and made his way to subway line that headed towards Meiji Shrine. This subway car was also suspiciously not super packed so he was once able to again lean comfortably rather than hang desperately on one of the subway handles trapped somewhere near the middle of the car. He checked the time hoping Kasumi wasn’t waiting long. He was looking forward to seeing her. He decided to let her occupy his thoughts for a bit. Isn’t that what normal teenage boys do? He hadn’t gotten to spend much time with her after things really started spiraling downwards for the Phantom Thieves. At least she knew WHY he was so busy and hadn’t simply thought he’d been avoiding her all this time. It wasn't a lie or the truth. Perhaps he should have felt more worried that he'd made himself such a comfortable home in that no-man's land. Perhaps he could of texted her more.

Kasumi had always occupied this weird slot in his brain. She was a persona user and a friend but not a teammate. He had uncharacteristically denied her help when she finally offered to join the Phantom Thieves during the whole ordeal with Shido’s palace. It wasn't like he thought she was useless.

His mind went to when she had saved him when he got stuck in a tough spot back in Sae’s palace, dying to some shadows before he could get caught by the police would of have been pretty dumb. Before he could stop himself his brain filled with images of her practically dancing among the hoard of shadows that had appeared to halt his progress rending them asunder with her rapier. All the previous stiffness and nerves of when they had first fought together had ostensibly melted away. She had moved as freely as he did during battle, unafraid to leap and show off a little although with more poise than the showboating his fellow Thieves occasionally ribbed him for. He remembered the weird feeling in his gut as he watched her flit to and fro.

No he didn’t want her as a teammate because that would mean…what exactly? Why hadn’t he said yes? It wasn’t as if he necessarily held his teammates at arm’s length, maybe shoulder length but still pretty close. He kept things from them (an unfortunate necessity he figured) and even though he had developed into quite the flirt, an excellent deflection tactic he had learned, he made sure to carefully navigate away from anything actually romantic. He couldn’t let himself play favorites, couldn’t risk damaging his bonds. In hindsight he was probably lucky Ryuji was always too dense and straight to react to his constant flirting. He’d also been almost tempted to actually start dating Makoto after they stopped their ruse but he exorcised that idea before it had time to fester. Whatever could of beens and maybes had been meticulously snuffed out, not allowed to cloud his judgement or jeopardize the mission. His teammates felt more like family than potential love interests at this point anyway regardless of the now no longer necessary self-imposed restrictions Akira had put on his interpersonal relationships with his teammates.

So Kasumi was not a member of the Phantom Thieves and yet she had stumbled onto the existence of the Metaverse much like he and his teammates had. So it had felt off to lump her with the rest of his friends and contacts,, which of course also came with their own set of Akira-devised restrictions.

All the _non-persona users_ he had come to make connections with he kept at an even farther distance than his fellow Thieves or had tried to anyway. Sure there was one glaring exception but that was an extenuating unavoidable circumstance really. He'd had tried to keep his contacts in the dark not just to protect their secret (although with how many people had figured out his identity as leader of Phantom Thieves the fact that he wasn’t caught sooner was a miracle) but he was also too afraid to damage the bonds he had forged with them as well.

He had been constantly reminded by a certain impostor that they were absolutely vital to avoid “ruin”. Was it really a surprise he began to obsess over them? Making sure to always say what they wanted or needed to hear, dragging his tired aching body to listen to their problems and exploiting every resource available be it Kawakami's massages, Takemi's medicine's, or Sojiro's coffee to keep himself moving. The false god had been technically correct in the end, those bonds HAD saved him. So despite his crippling coffee addiction and maybe other substance abuse problems, _that he very much had under control_ , it had all been worth it. He wasn't like a certain someone, without others Akira knew he was nothing, that he was powerless, pathetic, that he wasn't strong like...

He tried to keep his thoughts on track. Kasumi not just knowing about the Thieves but understanding even just a fraction of what they went through meant…well something right? Yet he couldn’t really say he was as close as some of the other friends he had made. They had hung out a few times, after fate had repeatedly conspired to bring them together. They had trained together a few times as well once Akira had told her he had been a former gymnast at his old school. An _amateur_ gymnast he reminded her whenever she would get this almost scary sheen in her eyes when she wanted to try out a new training regime with him. He reflected on the deal they formed last spring where Akira would help her with what he figured amounted to life coaching in exchange for training with him. He had suspected she would have agreed anyway, her infectious cheeriness and kindness was something a a tiny part of him resented but wholly respected.

When he felt the by then familiar feeling of a chain being snapped into existence he didn’t even bother using that damnable “thief vision” he’d been “gifted” to confirm it was there. He recalled the sinking feeling in his stomach. Couldn’t one interaction in his life been normal? Couldn’t there be a least one person in his life he didn’t have to carefully craft a relationship while being constantly paranoid of damaging said bond, lest he doom himself or apparently, as he found out much later, the entire world?

Yet Kasumi felt…different there was always something off about her that he couldn't place. He had attempted to get answers from the God of Control back when he still knew him as Igor, masquerading itself as the master of the Velvet Room, but all he was left with was cryptic responses. He did manage to get out of the impostor that this bond was “relatively unimportant” which shocked Akira at first but left him strangely relieved. _Less to screw up that way really_ he had told himself.

He’d felt mostly the same when the trickster questioned “Igor” about the “Councilor” arcana. The fake host had stared at him like he’d grown horns before shifting his expression back to his strange unearthly grin, saying “ _some bonds are not integral to your rehabilitation however you may pursue them if you truly feel they will aid you to avoid ruin_ ”. He didn’t say anything else about him after that which was odd seeing as “Igor” often had small cryptic comments about his “confidants” that often kept him up at night, only pretending to be asleep to avoid Morgana's ire. He had even once expressed a decidedly negative opinion about how he handled his bonds, citing his apparent recklessness when it came to the holder of the Justice arcana. He was honestly embarrassed it took him so long to figure out “Igor” wasn’t who he said he was, as suspicious as he was of the impostor...

_“Ah you have amazed me yet again, trickster. Even though you did not know who or what I truly was until this moment you had long suspected that I was not original master of the Velvet Room. Extraordinary seeing as you shouldn’t remember…” the figure spoke as ~~he~~ it hovered in the center of the room._

_“Shouldn’t reme-“ he shook his head, he wasn’t going to indulge the impostor anymore, ”I have Justine and Caroline to thank for that really. It honestly didn’t make sense that YOU could have written such requests designed to actually evaluate my strengths and weaknesses”_

_“Oh? Have I not tirelessly guided you towards rehabilitation? Were you not able to avoid your fate at the hands of-“_

_“_ _SHUT UP! As if that wasn’t your plan all along to get me to use the pieces set before me, all so I could play along in your sick game!”_

_“And you did so masterfully! I had my doubts that you would take so well to using those around you for the purpose of your rehabilitation this time especially with those 'uninvited guests'. You truly are a remarkable prisoner, one who has entertained me yet again. For that I shall grant you the opportunity to avoid ruin once more, I shall revert the world to its previous state be it one rampant with distortion by man's desires”_

_“Even after all this you still plan to continue toying with him!?” Lavenza’s voice cried out thick with concern and perhaps a twinge of guilt for her part in his ordeal as the twin wardens, Caroline and Justine._

_“You misunderstand, The Phantom Thieves will gain fame much as before but this time" the false god turned its attention back to the trickster, “you will be free to use your pawns as you see fit. I will restore them to their previous sel-“_

_He pushed aside the feeling of déjà vu and desire that rushed through him ,_ _“No.”_

_“Now you reject my offer? Or is it that you hope to take my place? If there was any that could be a worthy successor for the God Of Control…” the false god trailed off for a moment letting a sinister grin spread across it’s face._

_“…No”_

_“How can you deny it? Even you admitted that you freely used the pieces set before you-“_

_“I’m going to say this very slowly FUCK. OFF. NOW.”_

_“Truly you are a fool, to choose death over eternity. I have no need of this place any longer, until we meet again dear trickster. Perhaps you’ll surprise me again and prove yourself worthy of the title”_

Akira dug his nails into his palms. He was supposed to be thinking about Kasumi not a dead god, _Whose rules no longer mattered_ , he kept having to remind himself. He dug deeper and deeper until his hands hurt and he shut his eyes tight only to snap them open when he heard what sounded like “-ji station”. He looked at the closing doors and leapt outside before they could close completely. His eyes darted across the horizon to confirm that he'd actually gotten off at the correct stop before realizing he'd only been to Meiji Station maybe one or two times. He started to look upwards at the subway signs when the world shifted around him again like it had back at the café. His vision blurred and pain seared in his head for a second as the world temporarily pulsated in revolting pinks and greens. Then all of sudden it was over and the pain once again subsided into a barely noticeable ache in the back of his brain. Was this going to be a thing now too? Akira found the sign that read “Meiji Station” and let out a breath making a mental note to add this new “thing” to growing list of issues he would deal with…eventually. He strolled away from the station and took out his phone and loaded up the navigation towards the shrine just in case. He made it across a bridge, when he looked up he could see the entrance coming into view and decided to shoot Kasumi a text.

  
**IM Chat: -Yoshizawa Kasumi-**

  
**Kurusu Akira:** Almost there

  
**Yoshizawa Kasumi:** Ok! I’m by the toril!

  
_More exclamation marks, guess she’s still excited?_ he pondered. He chewed on that a little more. He was meeting a girl at a shrine on New Year’s, one that had explicitly asked him to accompany her. He should be excited too right? That’s what a normal teenage boy would be feeling. _Normal,_ that word bounced around in his brain. _New Year new me_. Wasn’t he normal now? A voice deep down tried to contradict him but he shut his eyes trying to push it out. _New year new me_ he repeated to himself like a mantra.

This version of Akira would be normal. This version of Akira didn’t have to worry about people (or dumb gods for that matter) trying to kill him, or getting his teammates killed, or dooming the entire world because he pissed off one of his friends. He didn’t have to constantly second guess everything he shared and said, the worst that might happen would be Kasumi calling him a jerk and running off he imagined. Mortifying to the average teenager but paled in comparison to the end of the world.

He had on a couple occasions not given the best responses to his various "confidants" and of course the world hadn’t immediately come crashing down around him but nevertheless the increasing stakes of the previous year had slowly turned Akira into a paranoid mess carefully hidden under various masks.

 _New Year new me_. _New Year new me_. _New Year new me_.

His probation might still be in effect but that was likely being overturned soon miraculously, there wasn’t a god controlling the cognition of the masses and he didn’t have several demons and gods, although it was more often than not demons he unfortunately realized later on, pushing themselves against the walls of his consciousness. He was going to be normal even if it killed him.

He looked up to see Kasumi already walking towards him and he hadn’t even noticed. _Normal teenagers are kind of ditzy though right?_ he reflected . It wasn’t entirely new territory for him. He had played off spacing out in the Metaverse a couple of times in front of his teammates when Justine would sharply call out to him ordering him into the Velvet Room. He had done it a few times in the real world too, although those were slightly less Metaverse related. _Sure they are_ _Kurusu_ the voice pierced his thoughts in that falsely sweet voice.

His internal scream was halted by his sight of Yoshizawa Kasumi. She was wearing a kimono of course, yellow with large red and pink flowers and orange butterflies. She had a small bag similar to one Futaba had earlier but pink and yellow. Her normal plain red ribbon was instead adorned with white flower designs and accompanied by yellow tassel also tied into a bow. She stopped in front of him and fiddled with her hair. _Huh was she blushing?_

“Kurusu-senpai? Do I look weird?” she asked softly looking up at him a tiny smile played on her face. 

_Weird?_ _Why would she be asking that?_ Akira wondered what expression might be on his face. He smiled. Then realizing he should give some sort of response he shook his head. Her tiny smile got a fraction bigger. _Nice save again Kurusu_. He started repeating his mantra to drown out the other voice. He realized he wasn’t really listening to what she was saying until she started to pull away expectantly.

He thought he heard her say “…shall we?”

He turned his head slightly to the side and gave a small grin. _Yeah ditzy Akira, I can pull this off._ He moved to follow her, immediately trying to think of something to say if only to drown out that other voice’s laughter. In the back of his mind something nagged at him as he walked towards her. Usually Kasumi had this odd glow about her which Akira had attributed from everything to her voracious eating habits to dumb hormones. She didn’t seem to have it today, or was it that everything seemed to have it now? He felt a small throb of pain in the back of his brain, he tried to push it aside.

“So where did you get your kimono?” he asked when he caught up to her a second later, it seemed like a decent ice breaker.

“Oh” she looked down at herself, “Uh this is actually…” she paused for a moment her features suddenly drawing up in confusion. “I got this with my dad” she spoke with sudden conviction.

“It’s very pretty” he said with a practiced but warm smile, slightly inflecting the “very” deliberately choosing to ignore her momentary confusion.

“You think so?” her cheeks went a shade pinker but she kept her voice mostly even.

 _So far so good_ he thought.

“Oh I should get my offering prepared,” she said noticing they were at the shrine. “Did you bring anything senpai?” she asked, “Not that you needed too!” she added quickly.

He shook his head and smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t worry I brought plenty of incense!” she reassured.

They knelt before the shrine and he lit the incense as she prepared her offering an old omamori. He handed her the lighter. He watched the colorful charm burn for a moment watching the pink and golden designs turn to ash before looking over at Kasumi who had already begun to pray. He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds before raising his head back up, more for the show than anything else. He noticed his companion already looking around, an expression of amused bewilderment across her features.

“Huh I wonder why there aren’t many people here…” she trailed off.

Besides a few shrine attendants and a family Akira could make out over by an awning where they sold omamoris they hadn’t seen anyone else.

“I’d almost prefer the usual crowd,” she reflected turning her head to the side slightly with a tiny smile. Akira tried to focus on her clear attempt to look cute instead of the oddity of near empty shrine before he remembered something.

“Guess your wish really came true yeah?,” he smiled closing his eyes trying to match her previous expression.

“You-you really think so?” her voice pitched up just slightly.

When Akira opened his eyes again she was looking around the shrine with an odd expression on her face that Akira couldn’t quite read. He started to open his mouth when he heard the unmistakable voice of one of his favorite blondes. He pressed on his knees and stood up, he looked over to see if Kasumi needed help standing but she was already on her feet and starting to turn around. The faint voices of his other teammates, his fellow thieves… _Ex-thieves_ he made a mental note in his head, talking about the New Year carried over to him. Now it was Akira turn to start walking and looked at Kasumi as if to say “Shall we?” mimicking her earlier stance.

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment as his friends came into view. The girls were all wearing kimonos and Akira noticed Futaba was wearing the outfit she showed off earlier. Ann was decked out in red, Makoto in blue, and Haru in pink and each had a different type flower in their hair. He spent a second trying to recall his small amount of flower knowledge he amassed while working at Rafflesia before deciding they looked pretty regardless. The boys were dressed fashionably enough, Yusuke more than Ryuji unsurprisingly although maybe he was just being bias seeing as the artist was dressed similarly to himself. Akira didn’t have a clue what that camo thing that was hanging around the fake blondes neck but grinned at the almost ridiculously large puffy blue jacket he was encased in.

They seemed to almost glow in the cold noonday sun. He stopped for a moment as he felt something in the back of his brain tug at him, he pushed it aside and moved forward to catch up to Kasumi. She stopped a couple feet away from the group who was lost in their own conversation, something about a New Year’s party. The expressions on the party’s face flashed in brief confusion upon spotting the pair before settling into easy smiles.

“Well look at you two, didn’t expect to find you here,” Ann spoke up first, her tone sweet and light instead of teasing.

Akira mostly followed along with conversation trying not by distracted by the pain which had decided to move from the back of his brain to the front. He tried to recall one of Dr. Maruki’s lessons on mental training. He centered himself and felt his headache retreat to the back of his brain once more. He pieced together that his companions were talking about coincidences and fate in regards to them all meeting at the shrine. _Wait did none of them actually come together?_ he idly questioned.

“Hey since we’re all here and we got time why don’t we grab a bite?” Ryuji asks drawing Akira back out of his head.

He had forgotten to eat breakfast and the blonde’s mention of food had awoken his stomach. Makoto is the first to shoot the poor boy down mentioning family.

 _Doesn’t she just mean Sae-san?_ Akira questions internally.

Yusuke is next just vaguely mentioning having somewhere to be. Akira swears he heard Haru mentioning her father and before his brain can process that Futaba is talking about shopping with someone.

 _Did she say_ \- the pain has made a comeback cutting off his ability to think. He manages to push it back down and catches the tail of Ryuji making other plans. A less critical part of Akira wonders why Ryuji didn’t at least ask him to hang out although he guesses with Kasumi here he’d probably feel like a third wheel even if their outing was never specified as a date. He fleetingly considers if he’d ditch Kasumi to chill with his best friend.

The slightly more reasonable part of his brain broods over the fact that he'd even entertained the idea of ditching a cute girl to hang out with his best friend, said best friend he'd once had a crush on _. Does that sound like normal teen behavior?_ he muses. He feels his thoughts threatening to spiral but manages to keep his expression neutral out of practice.

 _I don’t know does it Kurusu, you would know right?_ that voice responds. He doesn’t have time to fret about how his brain is now answering him because he could of swore he heard Ryuji mention the track team.

 _Is he on good terms with them again?_ he wonders. He knows they no longer glare at him school and occasionally make polite small smiles at him in the hallways. _After beating him up,_ Akira reminds himself. He quickly puts away the sore memory because he’s in his head _again_ and he can only make out the very last part of what Ann had said, something about doing their own things. _Shit_ he curses to himself.

 _So eloquent Kurusu_ the voice answers back and Akira really doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s basically talking to himself at this point, his plan for normalcy evaporating under the climbing sun. The groups say their quick goodbyes and he can only nod along.

“So what did you wish for Kurusu-senpai,” Kasumi starts to ask being the only one still standing in front of him, ”at the shrine?”

 _Oh_ , his mind blanks out. He hadn’t actually wished for anything. His mind raced for a normal sounding response. _Shit shit shit_ the curses rang out in his brain, a perfect opportunity to salvage this situation and he’s blowing it. _Wait_ he remembers his game plan, as much of game plan as he had. _Ditzy Akira_ he recalls.

“Oh… I think I already forgot,” he chuckles pulling off the façade with a sheepish grin and bringing his hand up to scratch his neck turning his head into it.

“Kurusu-senpai,” her tone almost borders on concern, a small smile is on her lips but the rest of her face is pulled into an almost sympathetic expression.

 _Hmm not the look I was going for_ he chides himself. He hears the other voice laugh. He wishes for a moment that his brain was full of gods and demons again if for no other reason than to crowd that voice out.

“What did you wish for Kasumi-san?” he counters. He’s only used her given name a handful of times before, the first time being after their excursion to the glasses shop where she had mentioned how having to pick out glasses for her father had set off her anxiety.

The thought of making the wrong choice, left her empty, unsure, _“Like I wasn’t even me anymore”_ she had said. It was a feeling Akira had painfully become familiar with even if it was more often than not by Akira’s own doing. To ease her concerns he had told her that everyone had feelings like that. He’d even confided that he did too…occasionally. It wasn't a total lie he just doesn't remember the last time he felt like himself or more accurately what "being himself" even meant anymore.

He wasn’t using her given name to comfort her right now. He was using it to deflect away attention from himself. His stomach twisted a little. _~New Year new me~_ the voice in his head mocked him.

“M-me?” she finally responded, slightly taken back. He thinks he sees a blush tint her cheeks but it’s difficult to tell with makeup she’s wearing. 

_Mission accomplished Kurusu_ the voice told him. It actually didn’t fill him with any sense of accomplishment.

She paused for another moment before opening her mouth to speak. She seemed like she was about to say something before her phone high-pitched chirping made her stop. She pulled out her phone mouthing more than saying an apology. “It’s from my dad,” she supplied in a statement that didn’t imply disappointment nor enthusiasm. The expression on her face began to change as she kept looking at her phone, minute frown tugged at the corner of her lips. What she said next didn’t really surprise him, she had to leave. She was saying something about family. 

_Truly a topic for the day wouldn’t you say Kurusu?_ the voice barely sounded like it was teasing him, more curious than anything.

Akira immediately decided this was infinitely worse. He felt his mind start to drift, to a place with roaming green fields and implacable faces. He subtly dug his fingers into this left palm. _You…are…not…helping_ he ground out instantaneously regretting the fact he had just answered himself. He noticed Kasumi looking down with a sad expression. He felt a twinge of relief that she hadn’t been looking at him just in case his poker face had faltered, today’s strange events and obstinate headache were certainly trying him.

“Hey don’t sweat it, I’m sure we’ll hang out again sometime” he tried to assuage her. 

“Still I’m really sorry,” she said a little forcefully.

 _Had she noticed?_ Akira couldn't help but think.

“I was the one who invited you here after all, at least let me walk you to the station!” she smiled a little cheer back in her voice.

Akira felt himself nod more than ready to move as if that would let him escape his thoughts. They didn’t get very far before she Kasumi stopped and waved at a man approaching him, Akira recognized him from a picture he had shown her when they were at the glasses shop.

“Dad!” she called out eagerly. 

“Shouldn’t you be holding onto your sleeve, that is your dress kimono now…” her father chided, but rather than terse dissatisfaction Akira saw a calm face on the older man. His face not necessarily smiling but warm.

It made Akira uncomfortable. Kasumi also seemed a little bothered, likely for different reasons the boy assumed. 

“Who do we have here, I believe this is our first time meeting,” it isn’t a question.

“Oh this is Kurusu-senpai,” Kasumi responds, “the one I told you about? He’s done so much for me.”

 _Not really_ he thought. Honestly he’d done less for her than any of his other " _confidants"._ The word now stung his brain, he couldn’t even think it without imaging it in the false god’s deep droning voice. He had listened like he’d always done, saying very little about himself. What good would sharing boring details from his life do? He'd also had some practice by then helping others work through their issues. A rather unique and concerning array of problems which apparently all the people he had befriended during his time here in Tokyo were struggling with, including his comrades which all had their understandable baggage that fueled their reasons for joining the Phantom Thieves.

 _More like cards you’ve collected right Kurusu?_ that voice interjected reminding him of his once misguided belief that these people were simply drawn to him by some kind of innate charisma rather than the cruel game of an even crueler god.

Yet there was Kasumi, the “ _relatively unimportant_ ” bond, still drawn to him and considered him a valued friend. He hadn’t done anything drastic for her like diving into Mementos with only a two-person team to discreetly change someone’s heart or even better (or worse) doing basically the same thing except for the sole purpose of getting a friend out his art “slump”. Not that he regretted any of these things, he’d do them again in heartbeat and they’d certainly paid off in the end.

An all too familiar dark thought clouds his mind, _Do you ever help people without expecting something in return?_

Had he expected that helping his teammates through their problems would have tangible, in a manner of speaking, results in the form of stronger personas? He wanted them to be less worried, more focused. He can’t bring himself to think they were actually happier because of him but they did seem less…unhappy? The same logic more or less followed for his other contacts. Not all of them had technically asked him for his help but he figured they’d be better for it.

 _Better at helping you_ his brain supplies and it doesn’t even surprise him how much this voice sounds like Sae at that moment.

He wants to say that’s a lie. Was it really like that with Kasumi too? Maybe it was just nice to have a gym partner who was more interested in endurance and flexibility rather than crushing strength. NOT that he simply relied on her training to make her better at dodging shadows.

 _Not to mention one that didn’t have such distracting muscles right Kurusu?_ that other voice resumed its teasing.

He almost points out all that is over and done with before stopping himself, he needs to focus. Being a normal teenager for a day may be lost cause at this point but he noticed the older man seems to be talking to him. No matter how strange things gets he knows he needs to always be on his toes around adults. He seems to have missed something Kasumi had said too, is she blushing again? Even on a bad day Akira could follow a conversation while running a backlog of preparation tasks for an upcoming heist, what was with him today?

“-it’s pretty late for it, but thank you all the same,” he catches the older man saying. Akira notices the glasses in his hand, _Kasumi picked those out_ he thinks but doesn’t say. He decides to go for a more neutral response.

“They look good,” he replies evenly. 

“They do! He even wears them to work!” Kasumi adds on. 

_Why wouldn’t he?_ Akira decides to wonder before he snaps back to attention to listen to Kasumi’s father. There was a time Akira would have shaken in fear at the thought he’d zoned out when an adult was speaking, _What a pitiful version of me that was_ he thinks.

“Shall we get going-“ he hears the man start before those same nauseating pinks and greens attack his senses before quickly vanishing.

He thinks he heard Kasumi say something. Was she confused? His head throbbed. He hears her address him and turns his head automatically. She’s leaving, he doesn’t have capacity to form words, he simply nods. He stood there a moment before realizing the pain isn’t going to retreat to the back of his brain this time. He debated going to see that back-alley doctor but the thought of going to his room and collapsing on his bed wins out, the crates underneath would probably crack even more but that’s not a thought he’s capable to processing at the moment. The throbbing pain keeps him grounded on his ride back to Yogen-Jaya and doesn’t let his mind drift. He wants to laugh at the irony of the situation, guess he really didn’t need that bracelet today after all even if he managed to fail in just about every other way to be normal today. He thinks he grumbles out a greeting to Sojiro before traipsing up the steps. He doesn’t even hear one of the crates under the futon break.

~~~

_“You really thought you were the one in control?” Akira feels himself say, a chuckle escapes his throat. He’s in the interrogation room again except he’s standing tall. A smug grin splits his face, feeling the weight of a gun in his hand and the pushback from pressing it against the forehead of the figure in cuffs before him. The silhouette doesn’t speak nor look at him. Akira can barely make out eyes looking upwards seemingly a million miles away. Akira violently jerks the gun pressing it even harder against its flesh. “Look at me!” Akira hears himself shout. The figure leans forward into the gun and all Akira can see now are eyes. Umber eyes that burned him inside out. He hears a bang._

  
He bolted upwards. His chest feels like fire but he can move and breathe despite it being shaky and uneven. His eyes darts around the room both relieved and dismayed that Morgana is nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he had started to relying on Morgana for the exceptionally bad nightmares the ones left him paralyzed and screaming. Thankfully this one had been short if nothing else. He never actually saw Akechi kill his cognitive double but he had imagined it more times than he would ever admit. He thought he could almost feel Akechi enter and then leave the room as he sat there bruised, bloodied, but alive in the real world. He'd passed it off as the drugs messing with his head again. The mix of adrenaline and haziness started to wear off as Akira sat there alone fixing his gaze on the tools laid out on his desk. Hadn’t he locked that stuff up in a box for safekeeping before taking down Shido? Had he taken them back out before Christmas Eve and their final heist? Why would he leave him out?

_Since when have you gotten so sloppy Kurusu?_

He felt pain creep up in his brain and fell back into the bed with a huff. He lazily reached out for his phone before realizing he hadn’t plugged it in. He reached into his pocket and first checked the battery and then the time. It was low but not in immediate danger. His eyes flicked to the other corner and read “ _7:12 pm”_. His eyes darted up at the small obstinately dusty attic window but obviously no light shone through, the sun having set over half an hour ago. The notifications of unread messages catch his eye. He almost ignores them before noticing it’s the group chat so he starts scrolling through them.

One of the messages from Ryuji catches his eye “ **I can’t let my first dream of the new year be a nightmare** ,” Akira snorts at that. He sees Futaba’s message next assuring him he that wouldn’t count. _Wait did Ryuji have bad dreams too?_ he wondered. It wasn’t ever a subject that they talked about, it was a topic Akira was clear to avoid obviously. Some friend he was. He kept scrolling, the photo Ann had sent of the girls dressed up in their kimonos was pretty even if was unlikely to help with bad dreams like she had stated. He doesn’t notice the small fragile smile that grew on his lips as the chat devolved into arguing about traditions about dreams and the New Year. He does however feel the frown that forms at reading Ryuji’s last message, “ **I got practice tomorrow.** ”

 _Practice for what?_ his brain practically shrieks. He’s not even sure why he’s angry much less what he should be angry about.

He shakes his head, nothing about today made sense. He decides to just close the messaging app, staring at it was just making his head hurt. He gazed at the home screen on his phone for a moment before deciding to reach over to plug it in and setting it on one of middle shelves on the stack of shelves by his bed. The thought of simply going back to sleep crosses his mind but his brain is still stuck on alert mode. Restless and completely alone if the dead silence in the café was anything to go by. His brain started imagining slicing up shadows in eerie corridors laid with tracks- he shut down that thought. There was no Mementos anymore so his “reckless, dangerous, and absolutely stupid,” after-hours trips to burn off steam were out. Morgana’s shrill voice echoed in his head from the one time had had gotten caught. He had shrugged the whole thing off explaining that he never went that far down. _Maybe Takemi?_ he wondered before remembering the doctor had cut him off from anything but mild painkillers and low-end sleeping pills. He could stroll down to the red-light district and- no that wasn't something _normal_ teenage boys did either.

He looked over at his phone. The thought of checking the “Phan-site” danced in his head for a second before thinking better of it. What would be the point? He’d be too tempted to check the requests and there wasn’t anything he could do now. He couldn’t help them, it made him feel…he wasn’t exactly sure how. Relieved? Maybe there was a part of him that felt that way. He briefly thought of something Ann had said when he insisted on still doing Mementos requests despite being “dead”. _“Doing requests even at a time like, you really are something…”_ her words echoed heavily in his skull. What would she think of him now he wondered? 

His eyes drifted towards the ceiling until his eyes caught the stars still plastered there. He couldn’t look at them. He shifted on his side facing out till his eyes caught the numerous keepsakes he’d accumulated on the shelves. Every single one a gift, a memory from his time here in Tokyo. Would he actually be allowed to stay? He shifted again so he was now facing the wall, eyes wide open as if he can bore holes into it with his gaze. He stares at the wall for a minute although it feels like several. His brain feebly recalls what the whole point of today was. _Ok what do normal teenage boys do when they finally have a moment of privacy?_ he thinks. _Oh right_ but he doesn’t really want to do _that_ right now. He gave a dry pitiful chuckle, it’d had been quite a while since he had the time or privacy. The times he’d ever managed before were in a rush, usually in the bathroom unless Morgana was staying over at Futaba’s, just to get it done, over with, he had things to do obviously. Now, strange day aside, things were finally normal, well as normal as they ever were going to be, and he was conveniently, if a bit suspiciously, alone right now. Yet his head ached while his body felt numb, hollow even, as if he was just central nervous system that could only process discomfort. Shouldn’t he be happy? He stumbles over to the old CRT TV in the corner turning it on and presses play on the DVD player haphazardly placed on top. He falls asleep to reruns of “Bubbly Hills, 90210”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this doesn't come off as too unrealistic or crude.


	3. Temporary Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after New Year's arrives and Akira's short-lived dreams of normality start to fall apart as a certain brown-haired boy comes back into his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuromame - sweet black soybeans often served on New Years Day as a part of Osechi Ryori (traditional New Years Meal). 
> 
> A few more short chapters to go but they get longer after that as I got more comfortable writing. Let me know what you think!

The first thing he registers is warmth on his face like a soft gust of hot summer air, the second thing is the monotonous sound of breathing. Akira is awake and out of bed before his brain can catch up and it takes every ounce of will for his legs to not collapse underneath him, the muscles fully not expecting to withhold his weight yet. There is person lying in his bed. That person had been cuddled up next to him, he looks down at them.

 _Black hair_ , _ok not a dream_ his brain foggily ekes out. He starts to regain feeling in his limbs when said person turns and mumbles something to him having been jostled awake from Akira essentially vaulting over them. His brain still isn’t quite awake yet. _Where the fuck is my utility knife?_ he thinks.

“Who are you and why the hell are you in my bed?” he almost hisses. He hadn’t meant to curse out loud, he wants to blame it on hanging too much with Ryuji but that would be a lie, mostly.

“Who…what,” the figure sits up and Akira finally recognizes him as the young man from yesterday with the disturbingly familiar eyes. “You ok? You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.” A frown intrudes on the sleepy expression on his face.

Before Akira can answer, which given that he still hadn’t had any time to compose himself would have likely gone something like “I’m the one acting weird?” in an undignified yelp, a voice from downstairs interrupts them. The voice mentions something about lunch. Akira instinctively looks to the attic window, it seemed to still be morning. _Wait that was a woman’s voice_ his mind interjects, _who is that?_ Her voice almost seemed… familiar.

“You go on ahe-“the strange teen, he wasn’t quite as old as Akira thought looking at him up close now, stifled a yawn”- ad, I’ll be down in a bit,” he finished.

Akira must have been giving the black-haired boy, who could perhaps pass as Akira’s brother now that he thought about it, quite a look because the boy's slight frown has worked its way into pout. _Wait I don’t have any siblings?_ his muddled brain thought not even understanding why it was a question.

“You know what I’m going back to bed, wake me up when you stop being a weirdo,” he said sounding slightly annoyed. He laid back down facing away not bothering to put the covers back over himself.

Akira narrowed his eyes and tried desperately to think who this person is that he seems to have forgotten, there’s a certain fog creeping into his brain in addition the budding headache. _Brother_ something whispers to him. His thoughts are interrupted by a call from downstairs again. He instantly recognizes it as Sojiro’s voice. He looks over to the stairs, then down at himself still clad in sleepwear and then to the sleeping fig-, _Brother_ he’s corrected. He feels like there’s an incredibly important detail he’s missing but it’s hard to think and he is actually hungry. He dresses quietly while keeping an eye trained on his _brother_.

Going downstairs however turns out to be a huge mistake. His senses are overwhelmed for a moment as the world shifts around, his stomach twists itself into knots until it’s over and he realizes he is looking at one of café booths. Sitting there on one side was Sojiro across from Futaba who was sitting next to…some woman. Apparently they were talking about the kuromame. There's also what appeared to be bento boxes and tea on the table, quite a lunch indeed even if it was a bit early.

“Mmmmm these beans,” Futaba held one between her chopsticks squeezing it lovingly before popping it in her mouth, “mph-so good” she mumbled. Akira didn’t think he’d ever seen her so unguarded and happy, she was actually tilting back and forth in excitement.

“I have to agree,” the woman commented eyeing them intently as if they contained a secret, “perfectly shaped and shiny.” Her lips turned into a smirk as she looked at Sojiro, “trying to get hitched with these recipes Soji?”

Akira wasn’t sure he'd ever heard anyone outright tease the Boss like that nevertheless using such a nickname. _Who is this woman?_ his brain resounded.

“Hah, no thanks,” the Boss coolly responded as if this was an old game. “Oh hey,” Sojiro turned his body slightly noticing Akira, “come over here, join us.”

“C’mon you gotta try the sweet black beans!” Futaba near shouted at a decibel Akira didn’t think was possible coming from the short orange-haired girl.

“Good morning at last, where’s your partner in crime?,” she asked in a softer tone than the one she had used on Sojiro.

Akira came up to the table and tried to think of a response as he looked at her. She had straight black hair that reached a little above her shoulders, a pair of small square glasses sit on her face beneath shone bright grey eyes. He'd never knew anyone besides his own mother with quite that piercing shade, even his own eyes tended to be more on the stormy side more iron that pure silver. She was rather beautiful but in way that made Akira sad, he couldn’t remember why.

“Upstairs,” he replied to her question, naturally assuming she was talking about the other boy. Questions swirled in his head, _Who are you? How do I know you? Do I know you? How do you know Sojiro? Futaba?_ Based on his experiences so far however he guessed those sorts of questions weren’t going to get him anywhere. “What brings you here?” he settled on instead trying to sound cordial. The woman turned her head in confusion for a moment. He began to think wasn’t the correct question either but then Futaba answered for her.

“Well of course she’s going to spend all of New Year’s with us, she’s not that busy anymore,” she sounded too elated to even be annoyed at what she took as dumb question, “right mom?” 

Akira looked at Futaba and merely blinked for a moment, thankfully no one caught the momentary slack-jawed expression on his face. _Futaba’s mother?_ He felt his brain nearly upend itself as the sound of a screeching cry of something not quite human replayed in his head, a memory of scorching sand and blood.

“Yes I’ve hit a snag in my research,” her slightly disappointed voice brings him back to the present, her features are momentarily pulled into a frown before immediately picking back up, “but that just means I get to spend more time with you,” she knocks her shoulder lightly against Futaba. “Oh and this future Bachelor contestant too I guess,” she motioned to Sojiro with her thumb whilst smiling at Futaba.

The Boss let out dramatic sigh before looking over to Akira saying “Let me give you some advice, kid, don’t ever tease Wakaba cause it’ll only blow up in your face and she will never let it go, until she gets bored that is.”

_Wakaba, Futaba’s mother. Isshiki Wakaba is sitting here right in front of me._

Their voices start to feel very far away, he’s only vaguely aware that the woman began to speak again. _Isshiki Wakaba is..._ Pain rips through his head like a busted seam and he’s no longer standing in early morning light of the café. He’s sitting at the counter, it’s dark enough that he can barely make out the tears pricking Sojiro’s eyes as he recounts Futaba’s mother. _Let it go_ he hears a distant voice call out.

“-ey. You ok? Not feeling well?” someone says. He let his hand fall from where it was gripping his head, he registers that Futaba is speaking to him. The pain has died down but before he is able to speak someone from behind him answers. Akira spins around immediately and it takes an inordinate amount of willpower not to flinch. 

“He’s been acting weird since yesterday,” the boy with the blue eyes is there sounding once again annoyed but mostly concerned. 

“Maybe it just you know New Year’s jitters?” Futaba replies quickly as if she wants to explain away his behavior.

“I don’t think that’s a thing Futaba,” the boy shoots back.

“Ahem,” the woman, Isshiki, clears her throat. “Good morning, Mona-kun,” 

“Oh morning Isshiki-san,” he smiles sheepishly.

Akira feels another lance of pain but it’s mostly manageable. _Mona? As in Morgana?_ He looks at the boy, the word _Morgana_ is echoed distantly in his head as it fills with fog. He smiles on instinct but he supposes his slightly dazed expression gives him away.

“You sure you’re ok?” the boy, Morgana asks him. Akira automatically nods.

“You sure he’s not just hungry,” the Boss laughs then looks to the lanky boy standing there, hands embedded in his pockets. “C’mon grab a chair and eat,” he motions to the counter. Morgana decides to simply plop down in the booth next to the Boss but didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m actually not too hungry,” Akira responds but quickly adds “but I’ll take a small bowl of the sweet black beans,” to head off any concerned looks.

The group doesn’t seem to mind and before long he is sitting at the counter with a bowl of barely touched beans watching Futaba and Sojiro chatting with Isshiki Wakaba and also Morgana, _Wait didn’t Morgana use to be a_ …his head throbs. He finds himself staring at them not being subtle in the least, being too quiet and finding it difficult to follow the conversation, all wretched traits he had long thought he’d deliberately and excruciatingly excised from himself. His thoughts fracture and spiral out of control. For one THE Isshiki Wakaba is here in the flesh, apparently, sitting no less than a few feet from him. He can think of no less than ten different questions he’d like to ask her about the Metaverse alone but he can’t shake the underlying feeling that her being here is overtly wrong, which isn’t helped by how far away her voice sounds. _Actually they all sound off,_ he thinks. _Morgana’s voice sounds too…human?_ he feels like a secret is slowly slipping away from him, _Futaba and Sojiro sound too…happy,_ he immediately feels guilty for the thought.

“-right I’m going. I’ll be back with the deserts,” he hears Futaba say and she stands and leaves. She has a confidant stride that sticks out like a jagged edge cutting into his brain. The jingle of bell on café door distracts him from his thoughts and it feels like the equalizing pressure on an airplane.

 _Akechi Goro_ is standing there. _Akechi Goro_ is surveying the room with an unreadable expression on his face. _Akechi Goro_ is putting his gloved hand to his face with what sounds like a contemplative huff. _Akechi Goro is alive_ is a thought that tumbles back out from whatever box Akira had shoved it in inside his head.

It had never sunk in, never seemed real, it still didn’t. He had swooped in on Christmas Eve and saved Akira from making another deal, his life felt like nothing but a series of increasingly bad deals. Akechi had saved him from having to turn himself in to guarantee his teammates' safety and ensure Shido’s conviction purely out of principle? It had never sat right in his brain. How could anyone, especially him of all people, think they owe Kurusu Akira anything?

“Sorry, we haven’t opened just yet,” the words seem to automatically come from the Boss’s mouth.

“My sincere apologies, I just came by to ask Kurusu-kun something, if you wouldn’t mind,” the saccharine overly pleasant tone Akechi uses feels more fake that Akira can ever remember. He resists the urge to grimace at the plastic face that comes on disturbingly easy. He instead focuses on how the boy seems dull in comparison to his surroundings or rather that everything else seems too saturated in color. Akira hadn’t even noticed he stopped paying attention to it and he suddenly finds everything around him, save one dismal looking boy, painful to look at.

“Maybe he can cure your ‘New Year’s jitters’,” he hears Morgana chuckle to the right of him. He peels his eyes away from Akechi and glances over at the booth. The group’s conversation devolves into innocuous teasing about Morgana and desserts. There must be something about the way he’s staring at them because he feels, rather than simply hears, Akechi quickly step up next to him. He feels the heady mix of fog and pain starts to clear from his brain as the brunette approaches him.

“Do you remember?” Akechi says in a hushed conspiratorial tone. The golden-brown haired boy's eyes look almost red in this lighting and they are searching his face. They seem to find what they are looking for when he says, “We need to talk.”

“You…you’re…” Akira struggles then lets the fog and pain dissipate some more from his brain, “You know?” He isn’t actually sure what he means by that.

“Come on,” Akechi replies motioning towards the door with his head, it isn’t an answer but then again Akira’s previous response wasn’t much of question. Akira stands and makes his way towards the door following Akechi who’s already at the doorway. He mumbles something about heading out, none of booth-dwellers even turn to look at him. Once outside Akira follows Akechi down an alleyway without hesitation then stops for a brief moment. _Shouldn’t have Morgana stopped me from meeting with Akechi alone? Why did he seem so cavalier about it?_ he thinks to himself.

He picks up the pace again before Akechi notices and they soon find themselves at the tiny laundromat near Café Leblanc. Akira decides to lean slightly against one of the dryers putting one of his hands behind him to steady himself. Akechi stands firm in his position in front of the dryer the other teen had chosen. Akira almost wants to laugh at the fake detective’s stubborn refusal to ever back down even in situations like this but the defeated look on the boy’s eyes gives him pause. He doesn’t remember ever seeing him with such a blank expression on his face.

“So,” the brunette begins not even acknowledging the relatively close proximity the pair find themselves in, “What do you remember?”

Akira takes in a breath and for some reason the pain that had been living in his brain is gone, he doesn’t want to entertain the notion it has anything to do with his proximity to the other boy. “Shouldn’t you be-” he tries to begin then stops for a moment, “-in jail?,” that is assuredly what he meant to say.

Akechi doesn’t respond at first. He puts his hand, with those damned gloves, on his chin. “Looks like the memory of turning myself in for the psychotic breakdowns is still intact.”

Akira doesn’t bother hiding the frown that edges on his lips, there’s a question hanging there that he’s managed to keep locked up past that steel wall in his head. _How are you even alive?_ bangs around in his head. The elaborate stack of cards that make up his psyche has never felt more fragile.

 _Do you really think you deserve an answer Kurusu?_ that voice answers.

“The answer to your question is a bit confusing even to myself,” Akechi continues moving his hand to his head for a moment before letting it simply drop, “after a few exhaustive rounds of questioning my involvement with Shido I was simply…let go,” his face contorts into an expression that’s equal parts confusion and disgust. “Without any explanation I might add,” he tacks on the annoyance clear in his voice.

Akira doesn’t say anything and bows his head slightly downwards.

“It’s complete nonsense,” Akechi fills the silence in his stead, “aside from that ludicrous fact that I was acquitted on ALL charges it should be impossible to release a suspect who confessed after such a brief interrogation,” there’s irritation in his voice that’s tinged not with anger but almost a sense of amusement likely from the absurdity of the situation if Akira had to guess.

There are pointless questions pressing up against the steel wall in his head, _So how long were you interrogated then? How long have you been out? Why didn’t you message me?_

The other voice shoots back with absolute venom, _Just how selfish are you Kurusu?_

“There’s something else,” Akechi says as he looks away. Akira snaps to attention mapping out the lines in his troubled face, he feels his chest constrict. “Something that makes even less sense,” Akechi’s voice is quieter now. Akira can feel his muscles tense in the hand holding him against the dryer. “Back at Leblanc…”

“Isshiki Wakaba” Akira says it with reverence like a prayer. The tension pools out of his body.

“It’s rather fantastical isn’t it? One of foremost researchers on cognitive pscience Isshiki Wakaba brought back to life,” the amused tone in Akechi’s voice is back along with gloved hand on his chin.

“Is it really her though?” Akira’s voice is almost a whisper

“Oh?” Akechi quirks his head and rubs his thumb across his chin.

“Did you hear her speaking? All of them really…” Akira’s voice trails off he doesn’t want to contemplate whatever that means. His eyes are no longer looking at Akechi’s face.

“Well since you and I seem to be the only ones who remember,” Akechi starts to reply not acknowledging the question, “I’ll get to the point.” Akira eyes are back on the other boy’s face and the intense stare he’s receiving makes his skin itch. “Let’s make a deal,” he hears the boy say and it makes his gut wrench so hard he wants to scream.

He barely registers Akechi next words, something about working together Akira gathers. He blinks for a moment and looks at the expectant glare on Akechi’s face. “What did you have in mind?” he manages to say calmly.

He almost feels a sting of pride for keeping it together before that other voice butts in, _Stop being so pathetic Kurusu you can do better than this_.

Akira grinds his teeth but keeps neutral expression, _You’re absolutely correct_ he thinks.

“Investigating what’s going on here of course,” Akechi’s tone is back to neutral.

“Is that right _detective_?” the words slip right out Akira’s mouth as if he’s practiced them. He might have he honestly can’t remember right now because everything involving Akechi Goro was locked away in box behind a steel wall that he swears he can hear buckling.

“Yes that is correct,” Akechi's tone is still neutral but the slight furrowing of his brow gives him away, “despite not being a real detective I do have decent deduction skills among my many _other_ talents,” the hint of aggression lined in Akechi’s voice that implies a threat only puts a smile on Akira face.

He really really doesn’t want to think about the fact that the most normal thing about the past two days is this push and pull with Akechi he finds himself leaping into like a security blanket. It suddenly occurs to him he has absolutely no concept of the word “normal” anymore.

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” he asks next.

“Our goals align do they not? In order to solve…whatever this is, it would be safer for us to partner up.”

Akira pauses for a moment as if in serious consideration, then with a grin inquires, “Well then what’s first, partner?” 

“You need to take this seriously Kurusu,” Akechi bites back. Akira’s grin disappears in instant which seems to take the other boy by surprise.

“Don’t call me that,” Akira tampers down the snarl that threatens to leap out as he says it. He hears something break inside his head.

“Don’t call you what?” Akechi shoots back as if he doesn’t know. He had his head cocked slightly to the side now.

“Kurusu,” Akira grounds out.

“What do you expect me to call you then?”

“Literally anything else, Akira, Joker, Delinquent, Inmate, Idiot, Attic Trash,” Akira stops himself from going further as he sees the weird expression playing across Akechi’s face.

“Hmm while some of those others do sound…appealing,” Akechi’s face and tone reveal nothing, “I’m not sure calling you by your code name out here would be advisable either.”

“Just call me Akira you pompous ass,” Akira retorts calling the boy out on the complete sidestepping his given name. “I can still call you Akechi if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

“Fine Akira- _kun_ ,”

“I rescind my last statement,”

“Enough” Akechi says with not much bite in his voice but creased brows, “I’d like you to recount what happened after… those events in Shido’s palace,” he says with as much disaffection that only Akechi Goro can muster.

It grates on Akira like shark’s skin. Again useless thoughts push up against the steel wall that has to have several fissures in it by now, _Which events exactly? After you broke down and tried to kill us again or right after when you sacrificed yourself to save us? Would you like to hear how I howled and pounded on the door till my fists were bloody and had to be hauled off he door by Ryuji and Yuskue?_

“We changed Shido’s heart,” he starts. _I absolutely did not almost plunge my dagger into his pathetic shadow_ , he keeps out and continues, “But his confession didn’t seem to change the public’s perception,” _Shouldn’t you know this, where were you all this fucking time,_ blares in his brain, “So we traveled to the bottom of Mementos to the heart of the public’s distortion,” _And promptly got our assed handed to us being painfully erased from existence and sent to the Velvet Room,_ his mind practically screams “and _eventually_ we were able to uproot the source,” _the cursed fuck whose turned my life into a near endless corridor of funhouse mirrors just for fucking kicks,_ his internal voice is shrieking now but he presses on, “which should have collapsed Mementos and prevented any further distortions,” _I literally became one with the devil and shot a god in the face_ his minds adds almost as an afterthought as if he had remotely comes to terms with that. He swears he hear the synapses in his brain become untethered.

“But that does not seem to be the case…” Akechi drawls on as if he perfectly understood.

“No, I didn’t notice really notice anything was wrong until the first day of the New Year, I-“ _Had a weird dream which I barely remember_ his brain unhelpfully suggests completely unbound now and taking advantage of the freedom. He grinds his fingers into palm of the hand still trapped in his pocket as if that’s enough and he secretly wishes he could guillotine parts of his psyche again. He desperately needs to reign his thoughts back in before he actually says something stupid.

“So we can deduce that most of the major distortions appeared after the New Year…” Akechi barrels onwards to get to the point.

“I suppose we can _deduce_ that _detective_ ,” Akira is no longer sure why he’s antagonizing the other boy at this point.

“You know, I’m surprised that all the Phantom Thieves with _I guess_ you being sole exception,” he paused for just a moment, “are living in this distorted reality completely unaware.”

The not so carefully crafted response Akira has on his tongue dies the moment his phone starts ringing. He looks down at the vibrating jean pocket and then back up to Akechi.

“Well?” Akechi looks expectantly and nods, “Go on,” he adds as if Akira had been asking for permission.

Akira narrows his eyes for a moment before taking his phone and answering it not bothering to check the caller ID instead keeping his eyes peeled on the boy in front of him. “This is Akira” he replies casually as he slides his phone up against his face.

“Senpai!” the unmistakable brand of cheeriness that is Yoshizawa Kasumi comes blasting through the phone, “It’s Yoshizawa!” she says next as if that wasn’t glaringly obvious. Akira watches Akechi turn his head slightly and raise an eyebrow just slightly. “Well I’m in Odaiba, by the place where you know…there’s uh…you see,” she sounds overly excited even for her.

Akira stays stock still as Akechi inches closer not remotely hiding the fact that he is eavesdropping on the phone conversation. Kasumi’s sputtering on the phone brings Akira’s attention back where it belongs.

“Relax, tell me what’s going on,” he replies quickly but coolly.

“Well maybe I should just describe it,” she sounds slightly calmed down now, “I’m not really sure what it is…I-I think I can see that palace Morgana-senpai described back when…that time you helped me."

Akira finds himself actively glaring at Akechi who moves another inch at the word _palace_ , the brunette is about two or three feet away from him with the same involved expression on his face. His burnt umber eyes flit back to phone as Kasumi voice comes through again.

“Kurusu-senpai… would it be possible for you to come to Odaiba right now? I know it’s sudden but…”

“I’m on my way, don’t do anything till I get there ok?” he replies reassuringly while ignoring the interested hum that comes out from Akechi. He ignores the warning bells going off in his brain and ends the call putting his phone back in his pocket.

“So that was Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi says as if that wasn’t the most obvious part of the conversation. Akira doesn’t bother dignifying it with a response. “I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘ _palace_ ’ too.”

“Oh really? Sure you aren’t just hearing things,” Akira says while rolling his eyes. Akechi doesn’t even give him the curiosity of a glare, instead suddenly looking pensive

“To see something like that outside the Metaverse though…”

“Well this wouldn’t be the first instance of the Metaverse and reality bleeding into one another…”

“Are you referring to what happened before?”

“Right before we were able to destroy the source of the distortion in Mementos…the-“ Akira does not want to start throwing expressions around like “the god of control” and especially does not want mentioning anything involving the word _fate_ with Akechi Goro, “-entity responsible managed to merge reality and the Metaverse. Not everyone was aware of what was happening at first and most don’t seem to remember it at all…” Akira finishes and Akechi’s face stays as unreadable as a worn tablet.

“Seems that other world really isn’t as separate as we thought,” Akechi muses while being frustratingly obtuse at this point according to Akira.

 _Did you not see it, did you not see me, in the sky killing a god?_ he internally hisses. The words bounce around his head desperate to get out.

“At any rate you’re clearly planning on going to Odiaba to meet up with Yoshizawa-san, I should accompany you and see what we find,” Akechi's expression switches from pensive to playful with a smile very unlike the plastic ones Akira is used to. It reminds Akira of too many things that should be locked up and away. “Now that we’re ‘ _partners_ ’ as you say, you wouldn’t say no to me right?” the brunette says coyly and has the gall to put a hand on his hip.

Akira feels himself push up from the dryer and lean forward till he’s inches away from Akechi face as if his body is on autopilot. “Since when can I ever say no to you ~Goro~?,” he hears himself say, speaking Akechi’s given name with excessive affection.

Akira can’t remember if he’s ever actually said Akechi’s given name aloud before. He can’t think much of anything because he is looking at burning umber eyes framed by furrowed brows and remembers this is a man that has tried to kill him twice.

 _Well third time’s the charm Kurusu_ he hears that voice say, he desperately wishes it isn’t the last thing he hears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copying and pasting from a word doc, still going back and forth about how exactly to format it to keep the flow of what is being said and Akira's thought process. Hopefully it doesn't feel to jarring or unnatural.


	4. Universal Correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi Goro struggles to accept this new lease on life he's apparently been gifted. Clearly there's been a mistake, someone like Akechi Goro doesn't deserve second chances this must be just some cosmic misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akechi POV TIME
> 
> Also sorry for the irregular updates, been busy with a new job but now that I have a settled schedule I should be able to update every Monday. I still have a few backlogged chapters to go that are just sitting in a doc file so it shouldn't be an issue.

Goro turned the keys to his city apartment, his city apartment which was still here despite sitting empty for weeks, despite Shido or at the very least The Conspiracy likely suspecting that they’d been betrayed by this point. There isn’t a single thing out a place and it makes Goro’s blood boil. Had Shido been so confidant with his failsafe he never felt the need to instruct his men to ransack his apartment in the case of Goro’s disappearance? But then why hadn’t anyone at least come to cancel the lease and close out the account?

Clearly Shido had planned for Goro’s betrayal and had already planned for his disposal regardless, a detail Goro swears he will never ever forgive himself for overlooking, but hadn’t he thought about any real world ramifications? Was Goro really just another tool, no matter how particularly useful, that didn’t bother warranting much thought once thrown into the trash? Goro felt his gums start to ache as he continued to grit his teeth. 

_Was I really such a fool?_

He checks his phone, which is unsurprisingly dead. He still can’t wrap his head around why exactly he was let go after questioning. He had spent the last few nights in a holding cell and now here he was tugging off tie, neatly putting away his uniform out of pure habit and setting his phone to charge as if he’d simply gotten done with a long day of work and school.

The officers had not taken kindly to Goro’s incessant questioning of his release. How could they let him go after he confessed to what was essentially murder, multiple times, even if they understood nothing at all about the methods? He had barely even talked about the psychotic breakdowns much less the mental shutdowns and hadn't whispered a word about the other _things_ Shido had demanded of him, most of which he'd likely take to his grave. He always hated it when adults still treated him like child but this had been a whole new level of dismissal.

His head ached from trying to piece together the past few days’ events and Goro found himself in the shower trying to focus on the stream of hot water cascading down his back. How was he even alive? His hands trace the spot in his torso where the second bullet had pierced his chest but feels nothing but smooth skin. He remembers his cognitive self’s aim going a little wide after shooting it with his gun. He feels his chest tighten as if his body still remembers the bloom of pain, his ragged breaths, the blood pooling on the floor as he lied there watching Loki above him tear into shadow after shadow. Loki looking down, Loki smiling wider than it ever has and then...nothing.

He hadn’t regretted it, even while lying there drenched in his own blood. There had been a fleeting concern but as he laid there feeling the life slowly ebb out of him he could only chuckle at how poetic the whole thing was. Then again perhaps that had just been the blood loss talking. It was definitely dumb heroics, sacrificing himself for a bunch of idiots who had wanted to forgive him, _probably not Sakura-san or Okumura-san_ his brain interjects, after trying to kill them all. One of those people he had actually tried to kill twice. He suddenly sees sad grey eyes right before a set of bulkhead doors closes shut and he quickly shakes his head to dislodge the sight. He has an inexplicable memory gap from that night to Christmas Eve and it unnerves him.

_Why am I here?_

He stepped out of the shower and quickly threw on a pair of black pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. He checked his phone again, it was at least charged enough to turn on so he pressed down on the battery till he could see it light up in the relative darkness of his apartment. He left it on the desk turning towards the kitchen area before being quickly disheartened as he looked through his fridge and cupboards. Why had he turned down Sae-san’s offer for food after picking him up from the station? Damn him and his useless pride.

After making himself a shameful package of possibly expired instant ramen he sat at the desk near his still rolled out bed and checked his messages. He feels as if he should be surprised there’s not even an angry voice mail from Shido but the police likely wiped his sim card after copying its contents. He switches to scrolling through news about Shido’s case on his phone while messily slurping his noodles. There isn’t much unsurprisingly, it’s way too early for any actual case proceedings after all.

He leaves his phone to charge and stuffs the empty ramen package into his slightly full trashcan. He looks down and notices he spilled broth on himself. He absentmindedly wonders what his fans would think if they could see the Detective Prince in his cold unkempt apartment with his stained wrinkly shirt. He throws it off in a huff into a laundry basket and doesn’t bother replacing it. He instead moving under a set of heavy blankets on his bed. He feels even warmer with the knowledge that none of it matters anymore.

 _I’m supposed to be dead_.

He wakes up the next day and panics sets in. _What time is it? Shit I’m late for_ \- his brain catches up with him. He breathes out an amused sigh. He stays in bed for several more precious seconds before getting up. He goes through most of his morning routine, face cleanser, toner, moisturizer, teeth brushing, mouthwash. He doesn’t bother at all with his hair. He puts on a rather shabby looking thick black hoodie, the one he wears when he doesn’t want to get noticed. He completes his disguise with the one pair of jeans he owns and a large pair of sunglasses.

He’s down the hallway and in the elevator before he realizes his bank account’s probably been frozen. He checks his account on his phone and sees not only is his bank account. which had illegal funds transferred to it as payment for criminal acts, NOT frozen but he is somehow a hundred thousand yen richer. He hands are flying across his phone reviewing his account’s transaction history while his feet amble out of the complex and down the street. He spots the discrepancy, a payment made by one of Shido’s shell companies seems to have gone through twice. It's quite an amateur mistake, the original payment was over a month ago and the duplicate transfer seems to be dated back to…Christmas?

“Is this a joke?” he says out loud staring incredulously at this phone. Akechi Goro has never believed in fate or higher powers but right now the universe must be mocking him. He angrily stuffs his phone back into his pockets and decides if nothing else he’s going to that fancy brunch restaurant with the extra fluffy red velvet waffles.

His stomach full, Goro finds himself mindlessly staring at a map of Tokyo subway system underground. His sunglasses are hooked into his hoodie, he knew it ran the risk of him being recognized but he really hated wearing them indoors. It was why he had specifically asked for a table on the patio earlier.

“Hey do you know where the Ginza line is?” a wisp of a girl that is suddenly besides him asks. He doesn’t turn his face towards her at first, enjoying his the few moments of anonymity he has left. He can still feel her eyes on him and out of habit more than anything else he crooks his head and looks her in the eye when he finally responds not bothering to inject any of the normal phony cheer into his voice when he talks to civilians.

“Yes, you see this connection here,” he points to it on the map in front of them, “you can ride this line here,” he glides over it with his finger, “and transfer at this station,” his fingers stops at the destination. Her eyes follow along with his directions and then they are back on him. She blinks one, twice. She opens her mouth to speak. Here it comes.

“You look kinda familiar?” she puts her finger on her cheek and tilts her head. He never understood why men find this cute. Then all of sudden her hands are back her sides and she’s shaking her head. “Nah never mind, anyways thanks so much for the advice mister!”

She walks away after that and Goro watches her for a brief moment before turning away. He supposes it’s the hoodie, no one would suspect “The Charismatic Detective” would be caught dead in such a thing. He muses over the fact that it’s not an incorrect sentiment.

He decides to take a few more chances and mulls about the station for a bit, indulging in people-watching. He hadn’t had the opportunity is some time having far too many obligations between cases, interviews, schoolwork, his work for Shido and then eventually his ruse of working with the Phantom Thieves.

Although during that time he had actually been a fraction less busy after explaining to Shido, which meant talking till the politician thought it was his idea all along, that moonlighting as The Conspiracy’s hitman was a bit too risky while infiltrating the Phantom Thieves (he may or may not have gone to Mementos anyway to scratch a particular itch to shut up a certain trickster god). Both he and Shido had thought it a good idea to lessen his TV appearances as well, all to eventually sell the idea that “Detective Prince” had been hard at work trying to capture the Phantom Thieves. Yet despite this slight increase in availability his free time that November had instead been monopolized by one Kurusu Akira.

They hadn’t really talked, black mail and team meetings aside, since that night in the bathhouse where he had made the exceptionally questionable decision to talk about his parents. How when he was very young his mother would send him off to the bathhouse whenever she brought a man home after working at the nightclub, later in his life he'd realize it was usually when rent was due. He'd mentioned the pitiful excuse of a father who had abandoned them and left them to this fate to begin with. He was sure he hadn’t kept the unbridled rage from showing on his face when he mentioned that man, he had let his mask slip temporarily. He just hadn’t expected the reverse to happen too…

_“I guess is some ways we’re actually a lot alike” the raven-haired boy stood there a pensive look on his face, standing as if he wasn’t only clad in a towel in the locker room._

_"Hmm I suppose we have both been on receiving end of adults’ cruelty and indifference…”_

_“Not just that.” it was spoken so low that Goro almost didn’t catch it._

_“What are you getting at?” he knows_ _his response his slightly snappier than intended._ _The other boy pauses and gives him a look Goro can’t quite identify. Apprehension?_

_“Having to be perfect, to put on a face…a mask...I-“ he stops and lets out a dry laugh. It makes Goro a bit off guard, he’d never heard the boy do more than a restrained chuckle. “I guess in the end I DO have my parents to thank for giving me such a valuable skill,” the other teen isn’t looking at him anymore his head it turned staring upwards, eyes looking impossibly far away. ”Sorry I shouldn’t ha-“_

_"Tell me about them,” the words tumble out of Goro’s mouth._ _The tension that he can physically see ripple throughout other boy’s body makes Goro almost regret his words. Yet he wants to know more, anything about this boy, and this is first time he’s ever seen the younger boy look anything close to vulnerable._

_He knows now, well practically certain, that this seemingly unassuming boy is the leader of the infamous Phantom Thieves. Yet he never once turned down Goro’s requests to hang out. Was he trying to get information all this time? Was this just a game to him? Goro had never turned the boy down either on the few times he had bumped into him in Kichijoji , he was only there when he had free time anyway and hadn’t felt like indulging in his other pastimes of cycling or rock-climbing after all. Why did he keep hanging out with this boy? Was he really still so desperate for-_

_"I don’t have any kind of a sob story if that’s what you’re wondering,” the boy’s tone is uncharacteristically acidic, “they never beat me, never said they hated me, we’re usually around, kept me fed and clothed…”_

_"But?” he interjects and he knows he’s pushing it. He almost thinks that the younger boy is mocking him but there's something so guarded about his expression like a cornered animal. Goro’s not sure if it’s the heat from the bath leaving them both light-headed, the vulnerability of being naked except for the towels wrapped around their waists, or the miraculous luck of the bath house being completely empty. It was probably, definitely, all of these things. He didn’t believe in fate but this is an opportunity he can’t let go._

_“But what?” the thief, what’s standing before him right now is decidedly not an unassuming boy, snaps back looking at him from the corner of his eye while his head is still turned slightly upwards. Again there’s a glimpse of something Goro is sure he’s never seen. Anger? “They were boring, from a boring town full of boring people, who cares?”_

_“But they taught you how to wear a mask and you feel…grateful for this?” Goro feels his pulse quicken as the thief flashes a look at him, the idiom “if looks could kill” dances across his head but the look is gone as quick as it came. Goro swears he can almost hear the swoosh of a mask being put into place._

_“Oh I don’t know if I’d say that,” his expression is purposefully blank, “I’m just being dramatic,” he adds._

_"Then?”_

_"Then I guess we should get dressed, unless you want to keep standing here practically naked, Goro”_

_Now it’s his turn to let anger flash across his face, a bit insulted by Kurusu’s obvious attempt at misdirection. While it is the first time the younger boy’s ever used his given name it isn’t the first time Kurusu’s ever tried to subtly flirt with the intention of tripping up the older boy. He’d even seen him use a similar technique on Yoshizawa-san once when the girl asked him something he clearly had no intention of answering. He’d built up a small immunity to it at this point._

_“Think you’re getting off that easy?”_

_“Who said you were easy?”_

_"Akira” he spits out, deciding to give the younger boy a taste of his own medicine. There’s an almost imperceptible twitch on the raven-haired boy’s lips. Goro was sure he would have missed it if they weren’t staring each other down._

_“Why do you care?”_

_“I want to know”_

_“There’s nothing to tell”_

_“Is that your game then? Having others spill their secrets while you hold all the cards?"_

_The boy bowed his head slightly and went to push up his glasses except they weren’t there leaving no barrier between Goro and the piercing gaze that threatens to steal his soul. He decides to match it with his own not wanting to back down. Goro finds himself stepping backwards instinctively anyway when the other boy whirls on him and finds his back against one of the lockers with two hands plastered on either side of his head._

_“You really want to know me?” the thief questions in a low voice, the other boy’s face is close but turned down so Goro can’t read whatever expression might be lurking there._

_Goro can barely see a face underneath the wet thick locks of black hair._ _He only answers with an unamused grunt, thinking of the several ways he could severely bodily injure the boy who had the audacity to think he could trap him. Goro waits for the other boy to strike in order to make his move but it doesn’t come. He notices the arms besides his head seem to be more for bracing than ensnaring and that the rest of the thief’s body is pitched away from him as much as possible given their positions. After what feels like a millennia the boy moves, almost impossibly slow as if he knew one wrong move could send him to the hospital. His head is still turned down but he brings his lips close to Goro’s right ear seemingly careful not to touch him as if the older boy was a livewire._

_“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to be careful what you wished for?”_

_“Oh and why is that?” Goro refused to be flustered by this dumb boy._

_“Because you just might get it,” he whispered back and with that he was gone, waving a quick goodbye with his back turned as he left the locker room to go change. Goro didn’t even have time to react, and was sure he’d be tinted red if he wasn’t already flushed from the heat. He hated that boy, he hated him so goddam much._

They never talked about it, of course, even during his short stint as an… accomplice (he would never actually be a member of the Phantom Thieves) when Kurusu seemed eager to drag him around town once the route to Sae-san’s treasure had been secured and all they had to do was wait for day he had told them to send the calling card. In hindsight he really should have questioned their lack of relative resistance in going along with his plan.

He let himself himself be drawn in like an idiot, playing pool or occasionally darts, going to the jazz club together, he’d even taken Goro to a confessional at one point. He had been suspicious of the Phantom Thieves leader’s motives of course especially at that last invite. As usual his seemingly inconspicuous probing revealed nothing. It was just more of their back and forth, this stupid dance of extremely vague threats bracketed by what Goro would only deign as the mimicry of flirting. Each of them trying to trip each other up until finally it was all just too much and Goro had stupidly invited him down into Mementos for a duel. He remembered the lack of surprise in the Phantom Thieves leader’s eyes as he leveled a gun at the thief’s head. _Had he always known?_

He didn’t want to think of the Phantom Thieves right now, least of all him. He decided to catch a transfer and headed to Shibuya and started to aimlessly shuffle around the underground walkways, feeling as much as seeing the throng of people around him. It hadn’t surprised him that the entrance of Mementos could be found here. Even here in the real world one could listen in and tap into the collective unconscious.

_“He asked you out finally?”_

_“I aced my exams!”_

_“My mom finally let me get a dog!”_

Goro turned down a corner and let his back rest on a nearby wall. The stench of inflated happiness permeated the air. _This must be hell_ his mind supplied. He looked around and the bright signs and fluorescent lights that illuminated the shops and corridors in the walkway. Seemed a little to banal to be hell, perhaps this was simply purgatory. That thought made more sense, his soul had been sent to limbo having paralyzed the scales of judgement with his last minute sacrifice.

“Can’t believe my boss gave me all of the New Year’s Holiday off!” Goro overhears an excited salaryman talk into his phone.

 _New Year’s?_ his brain fumbles before recollecting the date, _It’s New Year’s Eve_. He’s not really sure what to do with this information. New Year’s is a time for new beginnings, a rather irrelevant sentiment for someone in his position. He wonders if perhaps he’s just stuck here as a holdover from the year past and that when the clock strikes midnight he’ll be wiped clean from this existence.

He saunters back to a map of the train system he hadn’t used it too much in his previous life other than school or to sneak off to Shibuya for clandestine missions in Mementos. His life as the “Second Advent of the Detective Prince” had often necessitated other modes of transportation. So he stares at the map, eyes almost glazing over the colorful mishmash of lines, as he works out where it is he wants to go. It takes him a little longer than he cared to admit partially due to unfamiliarity but also due to difficulties in remembering _that place_.

He looks out the window as the city scape fades away to more suburbs. The train ride is shorter than he remembers not that he remembers it well. He gets off at his stop and procrastinates by milling about in a convenience store. He buys two cans of melon soda without saying so much as a word, the young clerk is half distracted by his phone anyway. He takes out his own phone and puts it on flashlight mode to purposefully drain the battery before shoving it back in his hoodie.

He begins slowly walking towards his eventual destination, he needs it to be dark by the time he gets there. Needs the last train to have been and gone by the time he’s done otherwise he might run out of excuses to head back just to see if he’s still there. So Goro takes his time shuffling along the side streets until he passes a toy store. He glares at the displays behind the glass for a moment until a memory fights to the surface.

_“I just wanted to look,” his voice sounds almost impossibly small. The firm grip on his tiny wrist tightens into a vice._

_“You can’t have anything,” a woman in black and white habit said coldly. He wasn’t going to ask, he knew better than to ask for things by now. He barely resists the sharp tug that pulls on his wrist. He eyes a familiar looking toy gun as he's lead away._

He turns away from the shop window and slowly makes his way down the street passing shops new and old. The sun is finally setting when he reaches his destination. A thick chain and lock are wrapped around the bars at the front entrance and by squinting he can make out the red lettering on the dingy worn yellow paper taped to the front doors several feet away. _Condemned_ he reads to himself. He starts to stifle his laughter before realizing there’s no need. The sound bubbles up in his chest but still gets caught in his throat regardless, the sound that manages to come out can barely be called laughter.

He looks down the alleyway and sees vines growing up one of the walls that cordon off the complex. _Too easy_ he thinks to himself. Here he was thinking he’s have to sneak in somehow, wait till after dark to scale one of the outer walls without any of his gear. Yet here it is empty and abandoned, ready to be broken into. Of all places it's here Akechi Goro is shown such a struck of luck. The thought makes his stomach turn. He quickly made his way down the alley to inspect his infiltration point.

 _Good_. The vines are much too thin to support his weight. He’d have to scale the wall, the foliage had worked its way into the stone over the years leaving minuscule footholds. It would be a hard climb but not an impossible one. He does a quick sweep of his surroundings to make sure it’s clear before attempting his climb.

There are no footholds near the bottom so he’ll have to rely on his upper body strength for this first hurdle. His first attempt to get purchase with his fingers on a bit of stone that’s been pushed out ends in failure but he quickly manages to find a better candidate. He quickly finds another handhold and starts to work himself upwards, he brings his legs close to the wall tries to push his feet up against the wall as much as he can to relieve some of the pressure from his screaming arm and chest muscles. He releases a breath and tightens his core harder pushing past the pain. If the wall was a foot shorter he might have simply tried to scramble up but it was just tall enough to discourage the faster approach. He feels his a little bit of give near his right foot and his able to get enough leverage to quickly find another handhold father up the wall. It gets slightly easier now but more precarious having to choose carefully between the pushed out stone lest he choose one that’s too unstable to hold his weight.

He’s almost to the top now the vines are thicker here but he’d rather not rely on them. The choice is made for him as he reaches for a new handhold and it crumbles in his palm. He’d pitched himself just a little too far and feel himself start to lose balance. At this height the fall wouldn’t kill him but it’d have the chance to do some damage depending on how he landed. He grabs at the vines trying to bunch as many as he can together in his hand to increase the weight distribution. He feels them start to break almost immediately but it’s enough time for him to find a better position. He doesn’t pause but soldiers on until he’s up and over the wall. He lets himself down about halfway before letting himself drop. He instinctively whips his head back and forth to check for anyone who might have heard his dull thud on the concrete. 

He had made his away inside through a broken window near the back of the church after he was confident no one had heard him. He weaved through the compound, the layout hadn’t changed much but when he got to the room he’d been looking for he saw that it had been converted into a refectory. The worn out cots replaced with long wooden benches and tables which now sat covered in dust. There were even dust motes visible at the small windows at the back of the hall, often the only light source for the habitually dimly lit room. The walls seemed to have been repainted at least once but the room smelled just as bad if not worse than he remembered.

He swept his eyes across the room and managed to find it, the barely visible scuff mark near the left wall where one the cots had scraped into the floor during one his last nights there at the orphanage. It’s not like he’d really wanted to be adopted, to be shuffled around reluctant foster parents and then dumped into a group home like a burden that would poison anyone who got too close to him. Perhaps they had all seen his future, maybe they just knew. He wasn’t surprised that night when the boys gathered around his bed. He hadn't even fallen asleep just had laid there waiting, waiting for their fists, waiting for their angry words.

_“I can’t believe the whoreson got adopted before me!” He knew that voice._

_"They probably just want him out of here Koji, I heard he bit one of the people that came to look him over,” another boy said._

_“You gonna bite us whoreson? Hey watch his mouth don’t want to infected with whatever diseases he got,” a different boy said before a balled up sock was jammed in his mouth by one of them._

_He immediately wanted to wretch from the smell alone but soon found himself incapable of processing anything other than pain. Their fists fell upon him like torrential summer rain with the older children picking the most tender spots knowing where to hit to hurt the most._

He had tried to resist at first trying to bolt up and get away which is what led to scuffing on the floor. He knew Koji would be there, knew he’d throw punches, it was expected, demanded. Still he hadn’t expected him to throw the _first_ punch nor hit so hard. They weren’t friends, not really, they had had exactly one non-hostile conversation with each other. Maybe that was the problem.

_“You’re actually reading one of those moldy books that got donated?” a curly haired boy asked him his tone more incredulous than accusatory._

_He blinked at the younger boy. He wasn’t sure if was a rhetorical question. They usually were but the fact that the boy wasn’t walking away made him doubt._

_"You’re strange,” the boy continued when he stayed silent._

_It was true that reading wasn’t something any other boys did with their one hour of free time before lights out, then again so was talking to him in the first place. He didn’t have the courage to tell the boy that though._

_“Mother Kagura told me I shouldn’t speak to you,” the younger boy commented again._

_"Oh,” he lets slip before biting his cheek. He didn’t want to sound so utterly pathetic to the first boy who had actually said something to him outside a passing insult._

_“I don’t understand why, she said a bunch of things that made no sense like you’re ‘unclean’ or whatever, like what does that even mean, you take showers with the rest of us right? Do you not know how to bathe right or something?”_

_He flinched at “unclean” he had never heard it spoken outright. It was something he sometimes caught on other adults’ lips. He barely caught the rest of the boy’s rant. He felt himself involuntarily fold in on himself gripping the book tighter in his hands shielding himself._

_“Hey are you even listening what are you even reading?” the boy asked and reach a hand out to grab the book._

_“It-it’s-“ he started clutching the book closer._

_“The… Fiend… with Twenty ...Faces” the boy read out having moved his head to read the cover when his attempt at snatching the book had failed. “I guess the cover looks kinda neat…”_

_"It’s…a mystery novel…a series” he says so quiet he’s not sure the other boys hears him._

_“Hmmm sounds boring, is the main character cool at least?”_

_“Yes,” he says a little more tersely than he would have liked._

_“Whatever w-“ he stops abruptly aborting what was likely an insult, “uh just what is your name anyway?”_ _He stared at the boy for a moment._

 _They all knew each other’s family names due to rollcall although it was unwritten rule among them that they rarely ever refer to each other as such. Instead they defaulted to, often unforgiving and cruel, nicknames if given names hadn’t been shared. No one had ever bothered to ask him for his before, not that he would have said anyway. He never wanted to hear his given name again._ _Still the other boy was looking at him expectantly._

_“Mine’s Koji,” the other boy supplied after he remained silent, “ok so…” Koji continued, appearing about ready to give up and leave._

_He looks down at the book that’s still in his clutches. “_ _"K-ka-goro,” he stammered voice barely a whisper._

_"Huh? Goro? Weird.”_

_“It’s-“ he stops himself from correcting the younger boy when he catches the other boys eyes. Warm and brown._

_"Um uh ok… Goro,” the other boy seems a little taken back by his Goro’s gaze._

_“Lights out!” a shrill commanding voice bellowed._

This room stank. There was no way he was spending his last moments here. He turned and made his way for the door looking back at the mark on the floor just once. He wondered how long it would be there. Would it last until the building collapsed? That didn’t seem too far off but it was something, something that would outlast him at least. Proof that he had existed.

He found himself in the sanctuary standing next to the alter. He pulled out on of the vesting tables and unceremoniously planted his ass on it. He turned his body away from the confessional instead gazing at the broken stained glass window that adorned the front wall. Even now it had empyreal beauty that persisted in the darkness that had settled in. His eyes swept over the broken pews and layers of stripped paint. The only noise he made was a contented hum.

He raised one of knees to his chest while reaching over to grab one of the melon sodas. It tasted awful, the cloyingly sweet carbonated beverage stung his senses. He took another sip and then another before giving up and chugging the can. After his coughing fit died down he opened the other can and began pouring it out carefully so the syrupy beverage wouldn't splash up and stain his pants. An act that was pointless now that he thought about it. He supposed old habits do indeed die hard.

His task complete he let his back rest against the table. The ceiling never had any murals, no all that money went to the “little eaters”. Stupidly he let his thoughts drift and he began picturing a different ceiling. He quickly pushed that fantasy out his head. Still his brain persisted and the dust filled air did him no favors in attempts to push a certain attic out of his mind.

Would they still be there? Huddled around that dumb little card table. The trains hadn’t stopped running yet. He could test his little purgatory theory. Although what exactly would be the more painful outcome? No he wouldn’t find out. He would stay here in this place where the rotten seed that would become Akechi Goro first sprouted until the clock turned twelve and the universe fixed it mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to go with the "Akechi grew up in a religious orphanage background" (until getting adopted although as hinted in the story that doesn't last very long). I think it's implied in the game that he lived solely in group homes (at least in the Japanese version I believe?) but I thought this might make for a more interesting backstory.
> 
> Have a chapter preview for next week!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> He’s not sure long he lies there on the cold wooden floor letting buried memories play on repeat on his brain like a busted projector. 
> 
> _“I know it’s you Akechi”  
>  He doesn’t answer simply holds the gun tighter in his gloved hands. The metal tipped claws forced him to partially hold down the trigger, barely a centimeter away from firing.  
> “Are you surprised? It’s hard to tell with that ridiculous helmet but your the only one with access to the cognitive realm who'd come after me. I suspected Shido had someone doing wetwork for him but to use a kid? He’s more far gone that I thought”  
> “Stop talking”  
> “Are you going to shoot me? You know what that’s doing to do don’t you?”  
> “You’re strong”  
> “This isn’t the same as a psychotic breakdown”  
> “Shut up”  
> “You still have a choic-“ ___


	5. New Year Same Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi Goro only knew a few things, somehow against all odds he was alive and that he was inexplicably free. He knew that there was something terribly wrong with the world and there was only one person he could go to in order get any answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh what do you mean it's not Monday...got to make myself a reminder I swear. Nevertheless please enjoy another Akechi POV chapter!

There’s a sharp poke and then a somewhat hard shove to his shoulder. He opens one eye blearily registering the orange color everything is bathed in and then just for a moment pinks and greens.

“Huh finally, sorry about that kid but we can’t have anyone sleeping in the pews,” a gruff but calm voice says above him, “there’s a soup kitchen here that’s got some fliers about shelters and you can get something to eat too.”

Goro only makes out about a third of what appears to be an older man is telling him. _Pew?_ he thinks. He vaguely remembers shuffling over to them for a marginally more comfortable sleeping position. This man must be a police officer but shouldn’t he be threatening him for squatting or something? _Wait what if he recognizes me?_ he considers with some alarm. Goro forces his sluggish body upwards to analyze his current situation.

“That hungry huh? Well it’s still early so they probably still have some left.”

Goro stares at him. A greying man dressed in a jumpsuit with a broom in hand. His eyes quickly snap to the previously dust ridden alter and desecrated vesting table which are now immaculate. A bronze cross sits on top of the alter accompanied by two golden candelabras on each side. He scans the room only to see neat pews and unbroken windows.

“Uh hey kid, you ok?”

“Ack-ahem, fine… you mentioned something about food?”

“Yeah just go down this hall,” the older man points, “and then keep going then hang a right.”

Goro didn’t actually need directions and his suspicions about where this “soup kitchen” is located are quickly confirmed when he winds back up in the refectory. The normally pleasant smell of food just eaves Goro more confused, so do the clean walls and air. The far wall has a table set up for the dishing out of some type of porridge and ripe fruits. The benches are littered with people in various levels of dishevelment, as members of clergy walk around. He automatically looks to the left wall where the scuff mark should be but he can’t see it past the various human detritus that is now clogging up the hall.

“Oh you’re young, poor thing, is this your first time here?” someone questions in a overly-sweet voice.

Goro decides to completely ignore the plump-faced woman accosting him and makes his getaway. He doesn’t stop his brisk pace that threatens to break into a jog until he’s at the train station. The world shifts into pinks and greens again for a few seconds but Goro doesn’t waive it away as morning drowsiness this time. Three things burn into his mind as he slips into a spot on the next train.

_I am alive. I am free. The world is wrong._

The first thing he looks for as soon as he gets back to his apartment is his charger which had been tossed haphazardly onto his desk. He plugs it in and decides once again it wouldn’t hurt to shower while he waits for it to charge. He doesn’t take his time running his hands over phantom wounds this round. He finished toweling off his hair and changes into a clean set of boxer-briefs.

He presses down on the power button on his cell. He pauses over the phone application, there are only two numbers he has memorized neither of which he feels like testing out. He scrambles over to his desk to find a quick list of contacts he made in case he ever had to ditch his phone. It only has a few numbers on it, all work contacts. He finds the number he’s looking for and dials. His phone call is answered after the third ring.

“Hello Sae-san?”

“Who is this?” her voice crackles from the other end sounding terse even for her.

“Akechi, I was just wondering about the Shido case, I-“

“I can’t discuss an ongoing case Akechi-kun”

“I understand but if there’s anything else I can add to my testimony-“

“You’re _statement_ the other day is sufficient, I’m very busy so I must be going.”

He hears the call end and can feel his lips twitch in anger. Then again he should have expected his former co-worker to treat him with such distrust. Unlike the incompetent fools who questioned him at the station Sae knows about the Metaverse even if she doesn’t completely understand. She knows he’s a murderer. But why had she emphasized the word “statement” as if he wasn’t a target in the investigation?

He spends the next couple hours trolling through websites trying to track down news about Shido and the Phantom Thieves. He is a little surprised there’s not even a passing mention of the Thieves in the articles talking about Shido but he chalks that up to the remaining tech specialists covering their tracks. The story they concocted about Shido puzzles him however. Attempting to overthrow the government by manipulating election results? He supposes that not a total fabrication although it’s actually less elaborate than what Shido’s real plan had been. When he gets around to checking the “Phantom Thieves Afficiando Website”, which he had been purposefully avoiding, he still left with more questions than answers.

“Would you join the Phantom Thieves?” he finds himself reading the question out loud. His brain is momentarily struck by the absurdity of the entire premise. Ignoring for a moment that the group in question had been suspected of murder and purposefully vilified by The Conspiracy, the poll question itself possessed a certain level of superficiality that didn’t quite match any of the previous ones. The comments below made even less but there was one in particular that stood out to him.

**NotaPhan[2:32 AM] : Why is everyone getting so worked up about an urban legend, don’t you all have anything better to do?**

Pushing aside the obvious hypocrisy of criticizing others at two in the morning about their habits Goro instead focused on what the troll's question implied. He was pretty sure that the Phantom Thieves for better or worse were more than urban legends. Just how effective had the tech team’s campaign been? There had always been at least a handful of comments directly praising them, likely from people they had personally helped. Even when their popularity had plummeted after the Okumura incident with everyone thinking they’d been his executioner (and subsequently being led to believe they had offed Shujin’s principal as well) there were always at least a few comments from conflicted fans who couldn’t reconcile these allegations with the various claims from people who had desperate requests for help miraculously fulfilled. Now there was just frivolous comments and jokes.

Goro couldn’t wrap his head around it and it made him bristle like a cactus. He stared down as his phone from the spot where he had curled up on his bed. He doesn’t actually hear the gurgle from his empty stomach so much as feel it. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday and as big as a meal as it had been his body was making him painfully aware of his neglect. He grabs some clothes more typical of the former “Detective Prince” although the slacks and sweater vest combo he put on were a bit darker and sleeker than his usual ensemble. For once he doesn’t have a plan but figures the fresh air wouldn’t kill him, probably.

He’s never eaten a Big Bang Burger before and probably never will again. It had been a last minute decision fueled by hunger and perhaps morbid curiosity. It was a place the “Detective Prince” would have never deigned with his presence, it had also been owned by a monster.

He had visited Okumura’s palace a few times before the Thieves had ever stepped foot in it. It was (mostly) his idea to have the Thieves be manipulated into targeting the CEO in the first place to soften up his rather formidable palace. He had assured Shido he could have _eventually_ taken out Okumura but that it would have taken a considerable amount of time. That man was dead and gone, Goro had seen to that personally and even now he found it hard to be guilty.

Or perhaps a small part of him did, is that why he accepted that moronic food challenge? He left feeling more full he had ever felt in his life with a shiny badge to show for it. He decided to take a breather off to the side. His ear couldn’t help but pick up two employees on break gossiping.

“I can’t believe Okumura-sama still personally visits every store.”

“Yeah we’re so lucky to have such a kind boss, he even personally thanked me!”

Goro stopped breathing for a moment. He must have heard them wrong, they must have been talking about his daughter and he just heard it wrong. He was clenching his fists, even through the gloves he felt his fingers digging into his palms. He started to put one foot in front of the other deciding that space could only help his deteriorating composure.

This was normally a time when he would find Loki screaming in his brain and for the first time ever he regretted its absence. He hadn’t had much time to contemplate his persona's silence this past week. Robin Hood had never been exceptionally vocal occasionally communicating to him in clear sentences very unlike his counterpart. Loki connected to his brain in strangled thoughts and overwhelming emotion. He reached out into his mindscape and found…nothing. It was emptiness that not even he had ever known. He felt nausea and a searing pain in his head.

_The world is wrong._

He repeats the words over and over until the pain subsides enough that he can make his way back to the station. He feels vulnerable clutching to the railing focusing on keeping it together in the train car. He can count on one hand the number of times he's been put into this scenario, most of them caused by a certain boy from a certain café. He supposed he’d put it off long enough. He really could go for a cup of coffee right now anyway.

He felt himself relax just a touch when scents of coffee and curry graced his nose. He looked but saw no frizzy haired boy. Whether it was relief or disappointment that settled in his heart was no one business but Goro’s. He sat at his usual spot at the counter and prepared to confront the often mulish café owner who still had a newspaper in front of him. Had he even noticed Goro come in?

“Excuse me.”

“Hmm, oh,” he lowered the newspaper he stared at Goro for a tense moment till his eyes subtly lit up in recognition, “Oh, you’re one of Kurusu-kun’s friends right? He’s out with his other friends right now…Wait you’ve been here before right? Did you just come by for some coffee?”

Goro didn’t answer right away a little perplexed by his answer. Maybe the café owner was just going senile. Then again perhaps as a relative outsider that had only been given bits of pieces of information about the Phantom Thieves and their exploits he might naturally conclude that he and Kurusu were “friends”. He still should have recognized him from all his previous visits to LeBlanc that were obviously purely caffeine deprivation driven. Not being recognized seemed to the norm now, now that Goro thought about it, even with him relying on public transportation rather often now.

“Uh kid?”

“Oh I’d love a cup of Blue Mountain please,” he replied cheerily tapping into that old well of fake charm. It made him feel emptier than usual.

The Boss didn’t verbally respond simply getting up and working on his order. Goro spent the time going over the past few days events going over what he knew and suspected about his current strange situation. The usual short but courteous banter he shared with the café owner, trivial small talk often relating to work, was completely absent.

He looked to where the "Sayuri" should have been hanging. He'd often contemplate the painting while sipping his coffee, which despite everything still gave him a strange comfort even when he imagined his own mother. The women's famed "mysterious" expression, even when he hadn't known the truth of the original, had always reminded him of the rare moments she genuinely smiled. He hadn't been surprised in the slightest when after an exceptionally long Phantom Thieves meeting back in November Kitagawa-san gave him context to this original version "Sayuri". A self-portrait of the artist's own mother looking at a child she knows she would leave behind. He doesn’t even comment on the bare wall.

He drank his brew silently somewhat grateful for not having to keep up his pleasant façade. He instinctively looked up when he heard the door chime and felt the world crash around him when his one regret in his eighteen years of existence walked through. Well perhaps that list had grown since a chilly night in November.

Goro was in hell. _No, Isshiki Wakaba wouldn’t be in hell_ his brain counters.

_The world is wrong._

“I thought you were going out with Futaba?” the Boss barks without malice.

“I am you nag, maybe I wanted a cup of coffee before I go,” Isshiki Wakaba is speaking and she sounds like stained glass, “and to remind you about those beans since you forgot to soak them Mr. Dependable.”

“They’re soaking now ok? They’ll be ready for tomorrow morning, jeez”

“Hmmm they better Soji,”

“Yeah, yeah so what do ya want, the usual?”

“Hmmm? Nah I should get going,” he hears her walkaway then stop, “Oh and Soji?”

“Huh?” the Boss peers over the newspaper that he had already stuffed his face back into.

“Happy New Year.”

“H-Happy New Year Wakaba.”

She’s gone now and if Goro had a clearer mind he might think about the fact that’s the first time he’s ever heard the man stutter. Instead he thanks the Boss, pays for his coffee and leaves careful to not let any emotion show in his voice. It is somehow easier and harder at the same time without Robin Hood’s cool voice and Loki’s shrieks. His fraught march towards the station is halted when he almost runs into a young man in the alleyway. He is distracted momentarily by the bright blue eyes. Familiar yet distant in a way Goro can’t explain.

“Hey aren’t you going to say excuse me?”

“Oh my apologies, you just looked familiar for a moment,” Goro replies faking a smile he knows is not his best.

“Uh, sure…wait do I know you actually? Aren’t you one of bro’s friends?”

“Bro?”

“Akira,” he says matter-of-factly then follows up, “Kurusu Akira.”

“We are… acquaintances. Actually do you happen to know where he is? There was something I needed to discuss with him.”

“Oh, really,” the young man replies haughtily. Goro isn’t sure he likes the grin that plays across the young man’s features as he says, “Well do you want me to tell him you stopped by?” Goro frowns. “Is that a no?”

“Please don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’d best be going it was nice to meet you…” Goro trails off and extends his hand with the obvious intention for the young man to introduce himself. The young man, who may actually be younger than Goro, he can’t seem to tell, stares at his hand for a moment before following through.

“Morgana,” he says grasping Goro’s hand, “but my friends call me Mona.”

It is only through muscle memory that Goro completes the handshake before letting his hand drop. Goro notices the young man is looking him expectantly as if waiting for Goro to introduce himself in kind. When was the last time he actually had to do that?

“Akechi…Akechi Goro.”

The young man lifts his head up slightly and puts his thumb to his chin as if he’s trying to remember something. He seems to give up this train of thought and settles on a pleasant enough smile, “Nice to meet you, Akechi.”

Goro perhaps should be bothered by the lack of honorific but given who he is speaking to and how it’s inconsequential at this point.

“Likewise,” Goro replies mechanically before turning to leave.

His head is practically buzzing and it’s more of habit than anything that he remembers to pick up something to eat, instant curry rice this time, before collapsing inside his 1K apartment when he finally makes behind the door. He’s not sure long he lies there on the cold wooden floor letting buried memories play on repeat on his brain like a busted projector. 

_“I know it’s you Akechi.”_

_He doesn’t answer simply holds the gun tighter in his gloved hands. The metal tipped claws forced him to partially hold down the trigger, barely a centimeter away from firing._

_“Are you surprised? It’s hard to tell with that ridiculous helmet but your the only one with access to the cognitive realm who'd come after me. I suspected Shido had someone doing wetwork for him but to use a kid? He’s more far gone that I thought”_

_“Stop talking”_

_“Are you going to shoot me? You know what that’s doing to do don’t you?”_

_“You’re strong”_

_“This isn’t the same as a psychotic breakdown”_

_“Shut up”_

_“You still have a choic-“_

For the longest time he would tell himself that it was just an unfortunate accident she had been in traffic when she finally collapsed as if that somehow made a difference when _he_ was the one who tracked down her shadow, when _he_ was the one who leveled the gun to its head.

" _You shouldn’t point a gun at anything you aren’t prepared to destroy"_.

Too bad Goro had to learn trigger discipline after the fact but honestly there could have only be one outcome if he intended to cement his position with Shido. The then up and coming politician of course had been proud _, so_ _proud_ of his work. Shido forged a suicide note in no time. Goro can still feel his words of praise on his skin burning sweetly like the celebratory drink he had offered. He had almost refused it by citing his age before realizing how ridiculous that would sound.

It wouldn’t be the last time Shido pushed adult things, asked him to do things Goro barely had the words to describe yet. He had savored the rare occasions he got to off members of Shido’s inner circle, it was the only time he would take off take his helmet and look into his target’s eyes when he put a bullet in their inky black brains.

He isn’t sure what time it is when he comes back to himself only that it’s dark outside. Eventually he gets up and lets his brain slip into auto-pilot and goes to bed with undercooked instant curry rice in his stomach. Tomorrow he will have to go back to that place, and stare into a certain black-haired boy’s eyes. He doesn’t want to think about what he’ll find there or rather what he might not find there. The next morning he follows his typical routine and let his body carry him back to that café. He takes a fortifying breath and crosses through the threshold.

“Sorry, we haven’t opened just yet,” he hears the café owner say.

Goro taps back into his well of manufactured pleasantries. They seem to placate the Boss enough. He ignores the rest of the conversation coming from the booth deciding to not look at the dead women talking to the human who was once a cat.

He looks at the frizzy haired boy sitting away from them looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable staring oddly at the group chatting away. Even as Kurusu Akira, the unassuming boy, Goro doesn’t think he’d ever seen him look so out of place. He decides to take his chances and strides up to him and wastes no time asking him the question he’d had on his mind since yesterday.

“Do you remember?” he says it low although he honestly isn’t overly concerned with the others right now. He sees those grey orbs grow sharper as he continues searching the younger boys face. He sees the exact moment it clicks when those eyes widen so he moves onto the next order of business, “We need to talk.”

“You…you’re…” he hears Kurusu stammer before pausing momentarily to ask cryptically, “You know?”

“Come on,” he replies flatly. He nods towards the door with his head, he doesn’t want to spend any more time here. It has nothing to do with one of its current occupants.

He strides towards the door as he hears the younger boy mumble something about going out. He waits for a moment until the other boy joins him outside and resumes his pace. He remembers the inconspicuous laundromat by that bathhouse. Before his brain can pester him with associations he hears the other boy’s footsteps slow. He doesn’t look back and before he can fully register it they’ve picked up their pace again. He decides not to dwell on whatever might have cause the momentary pause. He chooses to stay still as he watches Kurusu lean against the dryer he’d decided to stand in front of. He’s tired, and decides to not even bother thinking about their close proximity when there are other matters to attend to. 

“So,” he says a bit roughly not bothering to keep up with the hint of pleasantry, “What do you remember?” He makes another command decision to ignore the boy’s sharp intake of breath.

“Shouldn’t you be-” Goro tenses for a moment, “-in jail?,” than relaxes as the other boy finishes his question. He’s not sure if it's a purely conscious action when he puts his hand on his chin, maybe it’s just a habit at this point to play up as the “Detective Prince” when he’s around Kurusu.

“Looks like the memory of turning myself in for the psychotic breakdowns is still intact," he states plainly and Goro registers the frown that forms on the boy’s face. Goro isn’t sure if it because he didn’t also mention the murders or if it’s the dumb phantom thief’s savior complex.

The absolutely shocked look on his face from that night is a treasure Goro plans to savor forever. The sad look in his eyes is starting to make Goro uncomfortable however, and angry, and other emotions. He chooses to go with what’s familiar.

“The answer to your question is a bit confusing even to myself,” he continues letting his anger seep into his voice while moving his hand across his head to convey frustration, he drops his hand and keeps going, “after a few exhaustive rounds questioning of my involvement with Shido as expected I was simply…let go,” he let the muscles contract into what he knows must be some sort of scowl.

He decides to finish with “Without any explanation I might add,” to convey how truly vexing Goro found the situation which is only compounded by the other’s boy silence. He knows Kurusu isn’t normally a big talker aside from their occasional conversations but this was a little ridiculous.

“It’s complete nonsense,” he decides to say almost to himself but let’s his irritation carry him forward, “aside from that ludicrous fact that I was acquitted on ALL charges it should be impossible to release a suspect who confessed after such a brief interrogation,” he utters almost wanting to laugh at the irrationality of it. Kurusu still isn’t speaking and the while the boy has kept his face impassive after letting up on his previous frown his grey eyes are starting to get that far away look Goro hates.

“There’s something else,” Goro speaks up again breaking away from the boy’s gaze. He needs to say this, needs to at least acknowledge the elephant in the room. “Something that makes even less sense,” he says almost a whisper. “Back at Leblanc…”

“Isshiki Wakaba,” he hears the other boy breathe out. There’s a line of tension Goro feels go slack.

“It’s rather fantastical isn’t it? One of foremost researchers on cognitive pscience Isshiki Wakaba brought back to life,” he comments with that hand back on his chin, he feels more guarded in this stance as if the boy who’s already seen him at his worst will be fooled. Goro isn’t even sure who he’s trying to convince.

“Is it really her though?” he barely hears the other boy ask.

“Oh?” he twists his head and feels his thumb across his chin. He hadn’t really considered the ramifications of her being here beyond the deep gnawing sense that she shouldn’t.

“Did you hear her speaking? All of them really…” Kurusu’s voice dies out. Goro doesn’t like where this conversation is going. So he decides to get it back on track.

“Well since you and I seem to be the only ones who remember, I’ll get to the point,” he says with conviction and he meets steely grey eyes. “Let’s make a deal,” Goro offers and he sees the phantom thief freeze as if he doesn’t want a single muscle to betray whatever it is he’s feeling.

He presses on, “What about teaming up? I’m not too proud to admit that you’ve been invaluable ally in the past.” It wasn’t a lie. Phantom thieving aside, which Goro reminds himself again he was never really a part of, he had several times used Kurusu as a sounding board on the occasions he got assigned real cases and had even helped Kurusu once. _That_ had definitely been interesting. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“Investigating what’s going on here of course.”

“Is that right _detective_?”

“Yes that is correct,” Goro replies tamping the bite in his voice but quickly gives up on that idea, “despite not being a real detective I do have decent deduction skills among my many other talents,” he finishes harshly all the more annoyed by the smile that forming on his rival’s face.

 _The more things change the more they stay the same_ his brain thinks as he feels that same compulsion to wipe that grin of the younger boy’s face.

“So what exactly are you suggesting?”

“Our goals align do they not? In order to solve…whatever this is, it would be safer for us to partner up.”

He sees the boy pause for a moment before asking, “Well then what’s first, partner?”

“You need to take this seriously Kurusu,” he bites back but he’s a bit stunned that the boy’s grin disappears in instant. 

“Don’t call me that,” the thief almost snarls.

“Don’t call you what?” he retorts. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard this tone of voice being used on anyone or anything outside some exceptionally vexing shadows.

“Kurusu,” he hears the thief reply through clenched teeth.

“What do you expect me to call you then?”

“Literally anything else; Akira, Joker, Delinquent, Inmate, Idiot, Attic Trash," he rambles off. _Attic trash? Interesting_ his brain slips out before he can abort that line of thought.

“Hmm while some of those others do sound…appealing,” he keeps his face neutral subtly clenching his teeth before speaking again, “I’m not sure calling you by your code name out here would be advisable either.”

“Just call me Akira you pompous ass,” the “delinquent” replies. “I can still call you Akechi if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

“Fine, Akira _-kun_.”

“I rescind my last statement.”

“Enough,” Goro replies and gets them once again back on track, “I’d like you to recount what happened after… those events in Shido’s palace,” he says with as little emotion as he can, it still comes easy to him. He allows himself to clench his fist just a little as he listens to the other boy’s tale.

“We’ve changed Shido’s heart,” he doesn’t think the about the almost imperceptible flare from the other boy’s nostrils as he’s say his father’s name, “but his confession didn’t seem to change the public’s perception, so we traveled to the bottom of Mementos to the heart of the public’s distortion,” he pretends not to notice the other boy’s piercing gaze as he speaks, “and eventually we were able to uproot the source, which should have collapsed Mementos and prevented any further distortions,” the boy finishes sounding disturbingly even and poised.

“But that does not seem to be the case…” he supplies understanding enough to know that the Thieves plan hasn’t worked as intended.

“No, I didn’t notice really notice anything was wrong until the first day of the New Year, I-“ he hears the boy cut himself off so Goro decides to take the reins.

“So we can deduce that most of the major distortions appeared after the New Year…”

“I suppose we can _deduce_ that _detective,_ ” Akira spits with a smirk.

 _God damn you Kurusu_ , his brain blares reflexively.

“You know, I’m surprised that all the Phantom Thieves with I _guess_ you being sole exception,” he still remembers the glassy look the “inmate” had given him for a brief second when he arrived at the café and now feels the need to subtly remind the smug "attic trash" standing too close to him, “are living in this distorted reality completely unaware.”

Whatever response the delinquent had gets interrupted by the annoying chirping of his phone. The teen looks down at his jean pocket and then back up to Goro.

“Well?” Goro prods, was he not going to answer just because he was here? “Go on.” He sees the younger boy narrow his eyes before taking his phone and answering it without taking his eyes off of him.

 _God what a prick_ , a voice deep inside Goro’s head remarks.

“This is Akira” he replies way too casually.

“Senpai!” Goro hears a disgustingly cheery voice blare out from the phone. “It’s Yoshizawa!” He quirks his head and raises his eyebrow slightly. He hears something about Odiaba, he inches closer.

“Relax, tell me what’s going on,” Kurusu replies evenly seeming to ignore the would-have-been detective’s efforts at eavesdropping.

“Well maybe I should just describe it,” she sounded calmer now apparently soothed by the idiot’s voice. He studies Kurusu’s glare as he inches closer once more when he hears the word “palace”. His attention goes back to phone when he hears Yoshizawa again, “Kurusu-senpai… would it be possible for you to come to Odaiba right now? I know it’s sudden but…”

“I’m on my way, don’t do anything till I get there ok?” Kurusu replied like he’s advising a sick puppy.

“So that was Yoshizawa-san. I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘palace’ too.”

“Oh really? Sure you aren’t just hearing things,” Kurusu says rolling his eyes hard enough to dislodge the from his skull. Goro instead decides to focus on the implications of what he had heard rather rise to Kurusu obvious bait.

“To see something like that outside the Metaverse though…”

“Well this wouldn’t be the first instance of the Metaverse and reality bleeding into one another…”

“Are you referring to what happened before?”

“Right before we were able to destroy the source of the distortion in Mementos…the-“ he hears the phantom thief pause. “-entity responsible managed to merge reality and the Metaverse. Not everyone was aware of what was happening at first and most don’t seem to remember it at all…”

“Seems that other world really isn’t as separate as we thought,” Goro muses. He keeps his face still and despite the other boy’s attempt to do the same he can still feel the irritation bleed through.

Part of him wants to ask what the Kurusu means by “entity” but asking to many questions might give away his still unexplained memory gap. Besides they have a job to do.

“At any rate you’re clearly planning on going to Odiaba to meet up with Yoshizawa-san, I should accompany you and see what we find,” he declares. He can practically hear the gears working in his rival’s head as the boy studies his slightly changed demeanor. “Now that we’re ‘partners’ as you say, you wouldn’t say no to me right?” he asks turning up the charm even putting a hand on his hip for dramatic effect.

He waits for the thief’s counterattack, eyes him carefully as he watches the dark-haired boy push up from the dryer and gets right into the former hitman’s face.

“Since when can I ever say no to you _~Goro~_?,” the thief’s fires back dripping with saccharine affection as he says his given name.

Akechi Goro is very familiar with anger. So he focuses on the familiar urge to beat the smug bastard that was smirking before him. He can’t now that they agreed to temporarily join forces but at least this time he doesn’t have to pretend to be nice. He doesn’t have to pretend to be a mild mannered boy who simply deflects with a shy smile. It wasn’t the first time the thief had tried this tactic although he wasn’t sure what his motive was now. It couldn’t just be that he wants to fluster him, right? _Does this delinquent actually think that would work this time?_ he thinks.

“Oh is that so? I’ll keep that in mind, _attic trash_ ,” he said with harsh tone but with a grin that only grew wider when he saw the tinge of pink on the other boy’s face. Goro swears he can almost hear Loki's delighted cackling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know of what you think of the alternating perspectives. I wanted to showcase how their perspectives are a bit flawed and neither of them are very reliable narrators at least when it comes to certain aspects namely what the other is thinking/feeling. While I think some like to headcannon Akira as this sweet innocent boy with a big heart or a master manipulator I don't really see him as either. I see him one who can and does manipulate but he's not a master at it, he just has control issues (shocking) due to being low-key aware of "Igor"'s control. I also see him as competitive, I mean it's mentioned several times how similar him and Akechi are similar. For god's sake the boy smirks after realizing he's beaten Akechi, sitting there grinning like a cat with his bruised and beaten face. So yeah Akira has some complicated feelings about Akechi Goro. Anyway rant over enjoy next week's episode preview!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> “You know the whole thesis/antithesis is more of Kant’s thing right?” Akira teased lightly while sipping his Colombian roast.   
> The café’ had cleared of regulars and the Boss had left him to him close up not feeling the need to listen to the boys “wax poetic about dead Europeans”.  
> “Of course you’ve read Kant,” the detective replied rather flippantly.  
> “Not an answer detective, do you actually not know Hegel’s famous seminary work?” He began setting the trap banking on Akechi’s pride and desire to always come on top.  
> “You know the Master/Slave dialectic is just a single passage from The Phenomenology of Spirit yes?”  
> “Well since you’ve brought it up I believe the original German phrase, Herrschaft und Knechtschaft, is more properly translated as ‘Lordship and Bondage.’"  
> “Clearly someone’s read the Wikipedia page.”  
> “Yes I’d suppose you’d prefer Master and Slave,” the thief laid out cheerily trying to suppress his excitement over how easily his rival had taken the bait.


	6. The Zealot, The Fake and the Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys join a certain redheaded gymnast for an infiltration into the strange palace haunting Odaiba. Akira tries to soldier on despite the silence in his head leaving him somehow even less grounded. It's hard to deflect a detective however, even a fake one.

The attic was uncomfortably quiet as Akira rummaged through the crates under his bed. He’d simply mumbled “Forgotsomething” in a hurried scramble when he re-entered the café not bothering to look at the booth-dwellers who seemed to be occupied with the sweets Futaba had returned with. His rival crossed his arms and stared impatiently from his position near the stairs.

“You know I didn’t think you'd try _this_ soon to get me alone in you room.”

Akira sputtered before containing himself into an unamused huff. “I’m getting my gear,” he snapped continuing his foray under his bed until at last he felt what he was looking for, “and yours since I doesn’t seem like you brought anything with you,” he finished while turning back to eye the other boy accusingly.

“Yes well this is all just a bit last minute since _someone_ promised he’d be right there,” there was venom in Akechi’s voice but his eyes were elsewhere.

“Whatever, here,” he tossed the replica quasar saber at him. The brunette catches it and begins to eye it with slight suspicion. “I bought it but I never got a chance to give it to you,” he flashed a smile trying to bury the awkwardness of it.

“Wh-Why wo-”

“Why did I buy it? Or why didn’t I give it to you? Does it really matter now?”

“Hmmm I suppose not, I suppose this will suffice for now we’re not even sure if we’re dealing w-,” Akechi paused clearly eyeing the ray gun that sat on the top of the shelf next to Akira’s bed. Akira stood up and carefully took it out of the case and pushed it into the stunned boy’s hands.

“Here.”

“You idiot why did you take it out the case, do you ha- “he stopped himself and cleared his throat, “where did you even find one of these…”

“It’s a long story, but since it doesn’t seem like you have a ranged weapon on you either you can use this in the meantime,” he offered remembering his rival’s penchant for ray guns in the Metaverse, ”…unless you prefer the real thing after all?” he added deciding to take a page out of Akechi’s book of passive aggressive teasing to cut through the awkward tension. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain this was the same kind Akechi had used as a boy who pretended to be a hero, as he had told Akira so many months ago. It felt like centuries.

“I-“ the older boy started then quickly paused before hiding it in his coat along with the saber, “…this is fine, we should hurry up. Where’s your gear., do you seriously keep all of it under the bed?”

Akira had expected anger, anticipated it, prepared for it. Instead there had just been a flicker of resigned sadness in his rival and partner’s eyes. He pushed aside the uncomfortable knot in his stomach.

“I use to actually but nah assuming it’s where it _should_ be…,” he said remembering the issue with his desk yesterday while kneeling near it and moving the loose floorboards. “Here we go,” he commented as he removed his dagger and gun laying them to the side while he fished out some of Takemi’s medicines he'd mange to hold onto, one’s that were way too sketchy to keep in plain sight.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Huh?” Akira followed Akechi’s line of sight to the abnormal looking pistol that lay next to the jagged black dagger. “Oh uh hard to explain honestly but if you think it looks weird you should see how it looks in the Metaverse.”

“Did you make this?” Akechi pondered while unceremoniously picking up the strange gun.

“In a manner of speaking,” he replied while snatching the gun from his partner’s grasp and stowing it away in his bag along with the his other gear making sure to snag a few lock picks just in case.

“You never cease to amaze me,” Akechi commented sounding more reconciled than bitter.

“You jelly? Tell you what I’ll see what I can get you next time I’m there.”

“When you're where exactly?”

“Just forget it, we need to get moving.”

Akechi seemed to drop the subject for now and started to make his way downstairs. Akira looked back quickly at one of the crates shoved haphazardly under the futon. He thought about going over and quickly grabbing his bracelet. He turned his head when he heard Akechi pause near the stairs clearly waiting. Even if he could quickly grab it and stuff it in one of his pockets he wasn’t sure Akechi wouldn’t notice the other notable item in that crate.

His rival’s glove, given to him in a fanciful gesture that was supposed to symbolize the promise of a rematch to their duel, kept by his bed always within reach. He really didn’t want the TV detective noticing the slight stretching it had undergone, the small lines in the leather from where it had been squeezed repeatedly. He turned to leave and they made their way to the train station with neither boy bothering to say a passing goodbye to booth occupants who were still engrossed in sweets.

The train ride was quiet, both boys leaning against the dividers near the doors on opposite sides. Akira against his better judgement let his mind drift while looking at the grey stone of the underground. His mind tried to analyze the range of emotions he had seen on his rival’s face and how said rival had managed to crack his normally unflappable composure. His mind went to that moment back in the laundromat. Had Akechi's eyes really looked like he'd been seriously considering what he could ask him or was he only imagining it?

He'd seen the usual anger he always managed to coax out of his rival but it wasn’t held back behind a curt smile or a feign of ignorance. The way his voice sounded, rough but alive, made his skin prickle. The only thing that came close was that moment after their duel in Mementos when Akechi had disclosed his true feelings, his hatred for his rival. It was like getting a door opened right in his face when he had only been allowed to peer through the keyhole before. Akira realized two things in that moment, he was never going to know Akechi Goro and second he really wanted to see those burning umber eyes again.

He would have liked to simply write it off as having a fetish for danger but nothing was simple when it came to Akechi Goro. There was denial at first which worked well for a while seeing that the whole charade started off with a true statement, namely that he readily agreed to give the T.V. detective his number as a way to possibly keep tabs on the police’s investigation. Akechi had seemed smart but prideful, having already admitted to their being one during their “chance” encounter at the T.V. station. Akechi Goro unknowingly helped him perfect the half-truths that became his existence. They rarely talked about the investigation.

Anger came next, angry at this pompous know-it-all who flaunted his ass while trouncing him at pool, who ruthlessly demolished him at chess with a smile, who often hinted he knew who the phantom thieves were all the while pretending to be better than them. Akira never completely moved on from anger but it had mutated along the way eventually curving inward. Akechi Goro taught him the value of resentment.

Bargaining came during the first time he had managed to rout the pretty boy during one their debates. It had been a rather dirty trick but then why fight fair?

_“You know the whole thesis/antithesis is more of Kant’s thing right?” Akira teased lightly while sipping his Colombian roast._

_The café’ had cleared of regulars and the Boss had left him to him close up not feeling the need to listen to the boys “wax poetic about dead Europeans”._

_“Of course you’ve read Kant,” the detective replied rather flippantly._

_“Not an answer detective, do you actually not know Hegel’s famous seminary work?” He began setting the trap banking on Akechi’s pride and desire to always come on top._

_“You know the Master/Slave dialectic is just a single passage from The Phenomenology of Spirit yes?”_

_“Well since you’ve brought it up I believe the original German phrase, Herrschaft und Knechtschaft, is more properly translated as ‘Lordship and Bondage.’"_

_“Clearly someone’s read the Wikipedia page.”_

_“Yes I’d suppose you’d prefer Master and Slave,” the thief laid out cheerily trying to suppress his excitement over how easily his rival had taken the bait._

_“NO I do not hence thesis/antithesis and if you’re going to be that pedantic about the specific terminology then it’s more Fichte’s ‘thing’”_

_“Ah but according to Fitche the resolution is synthesis, is that what you want?”_

_“Wh-what is that supposed to mean?”_

_“You don’t want to synthesize with me detective?”_

_“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous!”_

_“So our relationship is closer to Hegel’s famous dialectic then, why didn’t you just say that in the beginning?”_

_“W-wel-“_

_“Were you actually misquoting it then oooor were you afraid that bringing up the master/slave dialectic to the boy you just met would come off as way too thirsty?”_

_“I-hhow…” the brunette adjusted is tie and sighed, “You know Kant was a racist correct?” The brunette’s opponent only offered a noncommittal hum while smiling like the cat that had finally gotten the cream._

Winning against Akechi was a double edged sword. He had soon found himself squeezing in any free time, which wasn’t much to begin with, reading about pool, darts and occasionally philosophy although the last topic wasn’t discussed quite as often once Akira had managed to trip him up. He began to crave the angry twitches and quickly covered up scowls the older boy would reveal whenever Akira managed to finally best him at something.

He'd been foolishly obsessed with the notion that whoever this person the “Detective Prince” was, he was being slowly eroded away by Akira's persistence. Mostly innocent thoughts of _Just let beat him at this_ devolved into _Just let me see what's underneath_.

He rarely found himself relying on the the usual meticulous methods he practiced for conversations that left people wrapped around his finger. Whenever they worked together on the few occasions Akechi had asked for help with cases (and that one _fascinating_ time Akira had asked him) they were _mostly_ professional and _mostly_ talked shop. Whenever they debated or played pool or darts Akira would try to show off instead of trying to endear himself. Yet somehow there had clearly been a few words here and there amongst all his teasing and showboating that miraculously stroke a chord with the older boy.

He rather paradoxically let his guard down around him, stupidly letting his mask slip around the detective despite being pretty sure by then that he was _some_ kind of murderer. It was always a very vague inkling that grew in time, that Akechi could be "Black Mask". A theory he never shared with his team who, with the exception of Morgana, had all forgotten that incident back at TV station where the detective had heard the cat-shaped boy speak. There were of course other little things over time, he supposed it had been the same for Akechi. He really wasn’t sure who was using who anymore.

The internal bargaining only got worse once Akechi temporarily joined the thieves. _Just one more game, one more debate, one more cup of coffee_ he told himself over and over that November. It didn’t matter if knew that the boy that sat next to him the Jazz club was planning to kill him, he could pretend for just a little longer. He could pretend that he didn’t hear that cold distant voice over a phone recording planning his execution, he could pretend he didn’t get a cryptic warning from long-nosed being in the shape of man that he suspected was toying with him, pretend he didn’t receive a doomed prediction the ONE time he went to his fortune telling friend for advice about the brunette.

He remembered how he almost gave it away with his absolute lack of shock when the assassin leveled a pistol at him before their duel. He often wondered if maybe it would have been better if they had just gone all out then. He would have likely died given what it took to bring him down in the engine room. Despite his dismal chances at survival it would have been much fairer than Akechi letting him go. It had been such a mockery of justice Akechi "sparing him", believing he’d have the upper hand in the end even though the thief had a plan, albeit a risky one, to thwart The Conspiracy’s plan.

Akira still couldn’t understand what happened after, the confession of hatred, the challenge. Why challenge a man you’re intending to assassinate? He remembers smiling, clearly to the brunette’s irritation likely thinking he wasn’t taking the older boy seriously. He couldn’t help himself even the boy who he’d shown the most of himself out of anyone still thought he was so perfect, so put together and loved. He grinned until his mouth hurt to hold back the bitter laugher in this throat. It was then he realized that Kurusu Akira didn’t exist, he was just a mirror to be held and passed around. It explained why his “true self” had always been his weakest persona. Even the ultimate expression of such, the demon lord who betrayed heaven, was an amalgamation of his bonds. Even the ultimate form of his persona was something only summoned by the cries of the masses.

Depression had come next after the drugs from the interrogation room finally cleared his system and it sunk in that he’d beaten Akechi but no one besides the Thieves would ever know. There’d also be no more coffee “non-dates”, no more pool games, no more debates turned into teasing routs, no more late nights at the jazz club. Yet what stuck out the most was that he’d finally utterly defeated his rival and he wouldn’t be able to tell him lest he tempt fate. He wanted it to rub it in his rival’s face even if that meant one of them would die. There had been a part of him didn’t care as long as it meant he got to see Akechi again. When he finally got his chance it hadn’t been satisfying at all just a bunch of damaged teenagers gasping for breath, each of their wounds still fresh, trying to pick up the pieces of broken boy. Akechi Goro’s last lesson was that you can’t save everyone, or rather _Akira_ couldn’t save _him_.

Yet here he was standing across from him. At some point they had gone to the Ginza Line and then the Yurikamome. Akira had barely registered the multiple transfers, he needed to ground himself. He reached for his wrists. Right he had left his bracelet behind. He stared out from their positions similar to where they had stood before. He tried to focus on anything, the approaching bay, the coastline, the piers that dotted the landscape, anything to get him out of his head but he felt himself slipping further and further. He thought he felt something on his shoulder and slowly as if he was underwater turned his head to see a hand there. The saw the hand tighten its grip and eventually registered a sensation while he heard a noise. It was a voice saying something, a name? Kurusu? Had he done something wrong?

“Akira!” the voice shouted. Akira looked from the hand to a face in front of him. Umber eyes stared at him but they didn’t make him want to scratch his skin off, they looked puzzled, searching, strained. Akira felt his muscles relax, felt his brain become unglued again, felt his mouth open without permission.

“I’m really glad you’re still here,” the words left his mouth like a leaking sandbag. The words didn’t seem to make any impact on the pseudo-detective other than stretched silence that laid out before them. An automated chime followed by announcement snapped things back to focus.

“Let’s go this is our stop isn’t it?” the older boy prodded. Had he mentioned something when they transferred over? Akira simply nodded and they made their way of the train. They walked in silence in the direction of stadium for a few moments till the brunette broke the silence. “Does that happen often?”

“Wha-oh…don’t worry about it.”

“We are supposed to be working together, so I am going to worry about it.”

Of course Akechi was worried about how this might affect their current mission, and unlike his teammates he wouldn’t be placated with his usual methods. Akira took a deep breath and reviewed his options. So irreverent wit or coquettish banter wasn’t going to get him out this mess it seemed. He silently cursed himself again for leaving his bracelet behind.

“It’s never happened while on mission,” he finally supplied. This was technically true, but he’d always had his bracelet and his previous habit of adjusting his gloves had been an excellent cover for thumbing over it. He hadn’t ever needed to actually use it, the laser-focus needed for infiltrating palaces kept him safe. He’d come close in the “Prison of Regression” while staring at that man who had ruined his life talk about the “freedom” to give up having to choose for themselves.

“How long has this been an issue?”

“Just the past couple of months,” he replied with nonchalance. Again this was also technically true, before the interrogation room such feelings of disconnection were merely passing thoughts.

“Are you seeing someone about it?”

“Yes,” he replied a little too quickly. He had seen Dr. Maruki a few times in secret while he played dead, they had talked about some _hypothetical_ scenarios about what might do to ground oneself during a dissociative episode. He never told Maruki about the bracelet, he’d doubt the soft-hearted doctor would have approved even if making the so-called therapist squirm had been his new vice. Akechi didn’t need to know all that however. “Wait I-,” he sputtered trying to walk back what he’d stupidly admitted. “Look so what if I space out sometimes it’s no-“

“You weren’t just ‘spacing out’”

“How would you-“

“Senpai!!!”

The boys turned to see Kasumi standing near the gates to the unfinished stadium with a smile plastered to her face. Akira felt an increasingly familiar pain in his skull and looked up to see the “palace” in question shift into reality for a moment. It was still fairly blurry and just looking at it made his head throb but he managed to make out the massive statuesque structure that almost resembled a tee with an extremely large golf ball on top. The ball in question however seemed to be made up entirely of a strange pulsating energy with large chunks of machinery and metal swirling about. It was almost alien in how otherworldly it appeared. The pair walked up to her and returned tight but polite smiles.

“Oh you brought Akechi-san!” the redhead exclaimed in obvious shock.

“Yes we just happened to be together when you called,” he said with a bit of fake charm but forgoing the usual TV smile that accompanied it. It still made Akira roll his eyes which the brunette promptly ignored instead turning towards the massive shifting structure. “It seems the rules are being rewritten as we speak, a dead woman brought back to life, the phantom thieves becoming nothing but an urban legend, a palace appearing shifting in and out of reality,” he puzzled bringing his hand to his chin, “…what a mystery,” he tacked on with what seemed like forced amusement.

“Wait you know about palaces and did you say Phantom Thieves? Akechi-san a-are you a phantom thief?”

“Well actu-“

“No I was never a member,” the older boy interrupted and shot Akira a dirty look.

The thief relented letting out a small sigh while shooting a look of his own as if to answer the unasked question with _"Fine I’ll drop it…for now."_

Besides there was another issue his partner had brought up that needed addressing, “You said something about the Phantom Thieves becoming an urban legend?”

“Have you not checked your own website?”

“Do you mean the phan-site?” he questioned just barely resisting the urge to tease Akechi for being a “phanboy”.

“Yes that,” the pseudo-detective pinched his brow.

“I’ve uh…been busy.”

“But of course,” he replied while rolling his eyes, “anyway it would seem that all discussions of previous cases of the Phantom Thieves _accomplishments_ have vanished and have been relegated to role of proverbial bogeyman who change the hearts of the wicked.”

“But Shido-“

“Is facing charges for attempting to overthrow the government which I suppose in a sense isn’t completely inaccurate but isn’t quite what happened, seriously have you been under a rock these past couple days Kurusu?”

“I could say the same about you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, agitated and Akechi’s stubborn clinging to formality, “I mean when did you even-“ he stopped as heard that voice bite into his brain.

 _I thought we agreed that you don’t deserve to ask those kinds of questions, Kurusu,_ it seethed.

“U-um,” Kasumi squeaked, “Sorry to interrupt but how do you know about palaces Akechi –san?”

“Ah to put it in a way you might understand I have the same powers as he does,” he replied gesturing to the black-haired wildcard.

“Oh so I guess you’re like me then…” she mumbled

“What was that?” the brunette almost snapped before schooling himself, “Ah do you mean to say you also have the ability wield _a_ persona?”

The red-head quickly turns her head towards Akira with a worried glance.

“Go ahead," he replied perfunctorily.

"Yes, although I'm not a member of the Phantom Thieves either," she pauses for a moment and shoots the black-haired boy another look before continuing, "I awoke to the power of persona in this very palace with Kurusu-senpai and Morgana-senpai a few months ago. It didn't really look like this then...I think Morgana-senpai called it incomplete?" She looked up at it before going on, "I was just walking by on my way home when we got called pulled in."

"I assume only persona-users are able to see it since nobody around is making a scene, either that or it simply fails to elicit a response for some reason," Akechi mused. Akira wondered if he had even listened to Kasumi's story.

"You might be on to something Akechi-san! All the people I asked didn't seem to care at all about it's appearance."

"Hmph," the pseudo-detective quickly shot her an unimpressed look before schooling into a blanker expression. "Yes well, perhaps it would we wise to take action rather than getting bogged down in conjecture," he replied thinly.

"Do you mean we should go into the palace?"

"How astute," he replied and Akira resisted the urge to outright scowl at the fake charmed smile that spreads across Akechi's face, "I'll admit that I have no proof to back this up," Akira had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Akechi continued use of detective parlance, "but given the fact that we're the only ones who perceive this palace it might have something to do with our current strange predicament."

Kasumi cocks her head at that but Akechi turns his head back to Akira. "Would it not be more efficient to go inside and see what we're up against? That is if we can..." Akechi pulls out his phone and Akira copies his partner having already figured out what he's getting at.

Sure enough the Metaverse Navigator is shining back at him decked out in those irritating greens and pinks that make his head pulse.

"Seems like it's back now," Akechi commented, implying Akechi had checked previously.

Kasumi looked lost only for a moment and pulled out her phone. "Oh yes... I have it as well, you're of course speaking of Metaverse Navigator right Akechi-kun?" Kasumi inquires not really hiding the fact she sounds a little pleased.

"Can you check the search history?" he retorts back immediately.

"Search history? Oh uh how do I.." she muses eyes fixed on the screen, so she doesn't catch the quick eyeroll Akira sees the brunette give her. "Ah there it is, there's only one entry in the log but...hmm that's weird."

"What?" Akechi asks but doesn't wait for an answer moving towards the first-year's phone. Akira decides to follow suit to see that the what looks like a glitch on the name portion in the search entry.

"I've never seen this before, could it be the palace's ruler or something else?" there's more gravel in Akechi voice now and a scowl on his face, his apparent irritation seeping through.

Akira briefly thinks about what kind of power could manipulate the Nav. _The God of Control is dead_ he repeats to himself a few times before his brain could start to sputter into half-baked theories. He brings himself back to focus to catch Akechi and Kasumi talking about infiltration.

"-would you be willing to bring me with you?" he hears the red-head asks him, mahogany eyes looking expectant. Before he can answer she begins to make the case for herself, "I know it sounds strange but there's something about this place that's been bothering me ever since that day we came here," she reasons and Akira pats himself on the back for not just retorting _"Everything about this is strange"._ She finishes her statement with a resolute promise, "I won't slow you down, I swear."

Akechi gives him nothing giving a blank face that would put Akira's to shame, simply staring at him as if to say " _Well?"_

Given their current situation and lack of manpower Akira has little reason to deny her request. The part of his brain that constantly overthinks wants to remind him he's about to infiltrate a palace with a girl he's barely fought with and a boy who tried to murder him twice. There's also other complications but he clamps down on those thoughts as soon as they even try to surface. He puts on his own charm, that lopsided smirk that channels his inner Joker and his debonair attitude, "Guess it's showtime."

"Ok let's go!" she says eagerly.

"Allright," the third-year next to her relents. Akira watches the gymnast tap her phone and the world is swathed in checkered green and pinks.

Transferring into the Metaverse was never exactly pleasant but Akira had gotten use it, now he found himself willing the few sweet beans he had managed to ingest earlier to stay down in his stomach and his head thrashing against the cage that was his skull. He takes a deep grounding breath and looks first to Kasumi who has much less experience, the girl seems a little pale but otherwise fine, next he chances a glance at Akechi who is of course eyeing him instead. He straightens himself up and begins striding towards the entrance not wanting to give his partner reason to doubt his mission readiness.

He doesn't even really take in what Akechi is wearing until the trio is standing in front of the strange tower. His brain flashes alarm briefly given the last time he saw this outfit on Akechi he had been trying to kill him and then got himself...apparently not killed.

The panic washes over him to be replaced by something else as he takes the opportunity to actually look over Akechi's "Black Mask" get up. There are so many belts, wrapped around his arms, his torso, his _thighs_ , were there always this many belts? At this range he could also now see that the dark and blue stripes that wrapped around him were apparently made of skin-tight fabric that was making Akira curse several gods and goddesses. The blue-black horned helmet and tattered midnight black cape were about the same as he remembered, seeing as during that fight his attention had been focused on Akechi's upper half and trying not to die of course. He's barely paying attention to what Kasumi and Akechi are discussing when she apparently noticed his outfit too and seemed more perplexed by it than anything.

"So uh..." she trailed off trying to not let her eyes linger too long.

Akira felt for that part of his pysche that was Joker and summoned him to the forefront of his mind like a persona, "Wearing our true colors today huh?"

"True colors?" Kasumi questioned turning to raise an eyebrow at the thief who'd firmly stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his boots.

"Oh this old thing? I mean Yoshizawa-san aside there's really no reason to keep up with the whole virtuous and sincere Detective Prince thing"

"Virtuous and sincere? That must be a joke," it comes out a bit more bitter than intended and rather than a scowl the former "Detective Prince" just tilts his head slightly.

"I'm sure you would know all about being virtuous, and especially about being sincere right Joker?"

"Uh-hm maybe we should head inside?" Kasumi chirps trying to mask the awkwardness with eagerness. It nearly works and Akira has to give her credit for trying. He nods and he moves forward no bothering to look back if the gymnast and former hitman are following him.

The mercifully short elevator ride up is filled with uncomfortable silence. In fact the metaverse, or whatever version this is had never been so silent. Akira had managed to compartmentalize his head enough that his brain wasn't constantly bustling with chatter from various personas but there was usually a soft hum, the occasional side comment from Arsène who sometimes roused from the dark corner of his brain he'd been tossed into and of course the dull roar he'd had to grown accustomed to when he let not one but _two_ personifications of the devil into his head which made room like they belonged there all along.

He risked a glance at Akechi wondering if he was having a similar issue. He had a hand on his hip in a nonchalant stance as if he wasn't in strange unknown palace. He decided to do what he did best, move forward and pretend everything was absolutely fine. Nobody uttered a word until they got to top of the stairs in the very first area and he noticed the previously bare poster boards off to the side were full of notes and now surrounded by fairly normal looking people. There seemed to be little distortion here other than less than natural light everything seemed to be bathed in.

"Things seem a little different than last time," commented Kasumi apparently needed to state the obvious.

"How far did you actually get last time?" inquired Akechi.

"Uhh well just beyond that door over there," she motioned to the large silvery door down the hall.

"So you're only familiar with the areas along the entrance?"

"I don't know if there was anything beyond, the palace was pretty empty..."

"Yes you mentioned that Morgana-kun mentioned it being incomplete, it appears whomever the ruler of this palace is has undergone a change and the palace has expanded."

Akira was mostly listening to them, but there was something drawing him to the notes on the poster board in front of them. A certain familiarity that dug like a dull knife into his brain. He soon found Akechi next to him, he tensed only for a moment before putting on a placid face.

"Senpai? Akechi-san?"

"Nothing"

"It's fine"

The boys shared a quick glance of annoyance at one another before Akira moved on to another poster board that had caught his eye.

"What even is all this?" the red-head voice seemed to somehow go up an octave as she asked.

"Research notes on cognitive pscience. You can read these can't you?" Akechi looks dead at Akira as he asks. The thief merely shrugs.

"We should move on."

"Tsk, fine"

Akira looks at the ribbonlike structures he had used previously and start to climb, turning back towards his fellow persona-users, "We can get through to the next area here c'mon."

"Senapai, we could try the door it might not be locked now..."

"Pshh thiefs don't ever use doors if they can avoid it," he replies with a trademark smirk. He ignores Akechi's exaggerated eyeroll and Kasumi's look of uncertainty. He quickly clambers up using his metaverse enhanced skills to make his way up the structure, before eyeing the ledge above. "Although to be fair I did need my grappling hook, to get to this part. Hmmm here grab on to me," he extends his hand towards Kasumi.

"Uhm I- uhm."

"It'll be fine," he reassures the first-year before turning towards his partner with a similar gesture, "Hey you can-"

"Shut it, I don't need your help," the scowling rock climber retorts before scaling up the structure.

"Suit yourself, hold on tight k?" the thief says as his only warning before grappling up to the ledge and the another. He can't help but smirk a touch when he notices the first-year tinting a little red as he carefully but tightly holds on to her waist.

They don't have to wait long for Akechi to join them on the large ledge overlooking the next room. He ignores the glare his partner gives him as the trio look at the strange sight before them. A strange heart shaped meter that pulses with yellow light with undulating clock like hands bracketed by ever changing numbers in what looks like some sort of queue. There were more of the strange ribbon-like structures and various large cameras that almost seemed alive.

"Things have certainly changed, there's so many people here," Kasumi narrates once more.

Akira barely listens to the announcement that grates in his ears like a whine, something about happiness and specialty care for everyone's individual desires. It reminds him late night infomercial he saw on an American television station once.

"Everyone can become happy?" Kasumi repeats the strange message.

Akira glances at Akechi and the temporary partners share a quick look that screams _"Bullshit"_ before jumping down to the entrance hall below. The thief is somewhat relieved that his "third-eye" is still able to be accessed as he scans the room but finds little but some appetizing heart shaped figures which glow gold among the various shades of blue his thief vision clouds everything in.

His partner catches the avaricious glint in his eyes and the thief is struck with a glare that clearly says " _Not now Joker_ ". Looking at him now he can see that bond, his chain that links him to Akechi is a deep dark red. He can see wrapping around the older boy, starting to wrap around his neck and-

"Should we try talking to the help desk?" Kasumi asks which snaps him back into focus.

"Those are just cognitions of people, it's doubtful they have much useful information other than perhaps directing us towards those lines and treatment options since this appears to some sort of care facility of some kind," the pseudo-detective muses.

"We should keep moving," Akira recommends and moves along and up the stairs to the large doors at the end of hall. His partner makes only a noncommittal hum before deciding to tag along followed by the redhead who hides her small frown. When they get close to doors a inky black shadow in the shape of mostly normal-sized man in a labcoat and clipboard with a strange black and white swirling mask suddenly appears before them.

"STOP, ah it's you and..." the shadow eyes the thief and gymnast, "you shouldn't be here you're guises alone betray your intentions. You still haven't accepted our lord's salv-"

"I want to see him," Akira interrupts and if the shadow has a mouth it would probably be scowling.

"I'm going to ask you once more to leave, the world's salvation is at hand you mustn't disturb our lord's research."

"How shadow's speak can be a window into into the Ruler's psyche," Akechi beings turning more towards Kasumi as he lectures, "this one seems rather cult-like and seems to have a savior complex." Akira sees how his partner flits his eyes at him for just a moment before turning his attention the shadow with an unimpressed gaze, "We don't have time to waste on such peons, why don't you do us a favor and drop dead?"

"Why can't you accept happiness into your hearts? Why do chain yourself in your own pain?" the shadow spoke before transforming into a man in a black outfit with white markings and red fringes, the inky blackness of it's body was replaced with sickly pale green skin and it's mask was replaced with a face that had no features but a strange symbol in red. The shadow held out one hand in front of them dramatically while the one behind grasped a large ornate golden trimmed scythe.

Akira was stunned for a moment, he had made it his mission to be familiar with all the types of shadows they came across in the Metaverse but this thing before them exuded a strange energy and seemed rather unlike any of the shadows he had every come across. He hears Akechi ask the redheaded junior if she's ready.

"Can you do this Yoshizawa-san?"

"Can you?" he questions still wondering if his partner is under the same worrying silence from his personas.

"Hmph watch me, I can provide support AND hold my own, just try to keep up," he barks turning his attention the enemy who's now been joined by one of it's brethren, "It's been a while since I let loose..." he trails of into a sinister chuckle before making a bloodcurdling shout, "NOW! TIME FOR SOME FUN!"

"A-Akechi-san!?" Kasumi frantically exclaims. Akira breathes out a slowly before calling out to Joker again and feels a familiar smirk slide across his face as he takes in the sight before him.

"C'mon what are you scared? Just watch," he observes the seasoned killer lurch forward with his glowing saber and make a deep slash into the far right shadow, "DIE YOU PATHETIC TRASH." The shadow is question is caught off guard for a moment but quickly recovers making it's attacker jump back lest they be sliced in the gut by it's large scythe.

"Crow!" Joker cries out through clenched teeth only partly in admonishment, was he always this reckless when he was Black Mask?

"Hmmm guess they aren't total pushovers, why don't you show us your skills Yoshizawa-san?"

To her credit the redhead doesn't hesitate before summoning her persona who twirls in the air with grace and force hitting the pair with a physical assault. The previously injured shadow crumbles while it's brother manages to narrowly avoid it's long crystalline legs. The phantom thief took the opportunity to dash forward to sink his dagger into downed shadow before quickly switching the weapon into his left hand as he wrenched it upward taking out his pistol with his newly freed hand and shooting a few rounds into his target. It makes a few discordant shrieks that much too closely resemble cries of pain before dissolving into black sludge.

Its comrade, either possessed by the desire for revenge or simply realizing the position it's now in, makes a beeline for the long-coat wearing miscreant and begins wildly slashing. He barely dodges the first blow feeling the very edge of it's scythe scratch at his bicep. He isn't lucky enough with the second slash which cuts a long gash across this chest nor the third which almost disembowels him till he twists away but still leaves an angry red line on his side. He falters only for a moment before holding his knife and gun before him in a defensive position ignoring the searing pain running along the new marks on his body.

"Joker!"

"Senpai!"

The shadow snaps it's head at inhuman speed as its other opponents and the symbol on it's face glows and twists into the shape of what could almost pass for a smile. The gymnast crumbles in on herself whilst mumbling feebly while the other simply scowls. The shadow raises it's scythe once more to cut at the injured thief next to it. The thief fires the remaining rounds at his attacker but only manages to hit once which only makes it stagger for a second. He gets ready to block the oncoming scythe the best he can with his dagger when he sees a huge orange glowing blade smack into the shadow knocking it back a few feet. The attacker, whom Joker quickly identifies as Loki, dissipates while shooting him a grin with what appears to be it's mouth with far too many teeth. He represses the shudder that runs up from the base of his spine to his core.

"Why didn't you just do that before huh?"

"Unlike someone I know I only use my abilities as needed not to show off," is the curt reply he receives.

He doesn't dignify that with a response other than a small eye roll as they make their way towards the doubled over shadow raising their guns as they approach. Akira spares a glance over at Kasumi who seems a little shaken but nonetheless fine so he quickly turns his full attention towards the prey before him.

"You're pretty strong, want to join me instead?" he asks flashing a smirk while holding his demonic looking pistol at the shadow's head.

"Why? Why do you continue to struggle?"

"I don't think you're going to get anything out of _this_ one," his partner advises.

"Hmm their loss," he says in a bored tone before lunging forward with his dagger and cutting along the side of its neck before his partner follows up with a decisive stab to the midsection before wrenching the blade out. The shadow is a black sludge by the time Kasumi joins them.

"Oh, uh...looks like we did it," she phrases it almost a question but not quite.

"Yes I suppose we did," Akechi answers her with only a small amount of bite before relenting, "it wasn't a total disaster despite the slapdash nature of our...team," he says the last word like it's unsavory morsel stuck between his teeth.

The phantom thief doesn't answer outside of small hum that comes out more like a grunt before digging into his pockets for a bit of medicine. He eyes the bottle noticing it's over the lower strength variety silently cursing himself for not paying more attention to what he haphazardly shoved in his bag. He pops one in his mouth at the same time Kasumi notices the bleeding gash on his chest.

"Senpai are you ok, should we-"

"He's fine, he's had much worse after all," his partner answers for him and he's really starting to hate that helmet even though he's not sure he even wants to see the likely guarded expression underneath. "Anyway," the eldest continued with a imposing tone that makes the youngest jump just a little, "it seems like ruler has some obsession with salvation, clearly they have some serious mental issues."

"T-they mentioned pain...and also research?"

"Yes, perhaps they're someone in the medical field given the focus on treatment? Although those poster boards I wonder..." he put a hand on his chin before transitioning to putting it up against his helmet and leaning into the motion.

Akira decided to avert his eyes elsewhere while letting the medicine work through his system his gashes subsiding into a dull ache.

"Oh" he hears the older boy utter making him look back and see the black and blue figure walk off and bend over to pick something off the ground. Akira loses the internal battle of wills to not stare at his partner ass.

 _You're disgusting Kurusu_ his brain helpfully supplies. He thinks he hears Akechi say something about a map, before he's distracted by Kasumi whispering in her ear leaning over conspiratorially and not the tiniest bit subtle. He quickly looks over to her not wanting the redhead to follow his previous line of sight.

"- so you seem to know Akechi-san fairly well," he quashes the small chuckle that wants to bubble up from his throat from her statement, "is this how he really is? A..." she pauses again seeming to struggle on the right word, "callous person?"

He eyes her for a moment or two before deciding on something banal, "Just everyday Akechi," he answers her with a practiced smile.

"How about we save the chit-chatting for later and get going?" the subject of their discussion butts in starling the shorter of the long-coat wearing duo, reacting like a child with a hand caught in the cookie jar. Akechi eyed her down, "Unless allying yourself with such a ' _callous person'_ is more than you can stomach?"

"O-oh I was just..." she looked over to him with pleading eyes, "guess we got caught."

He wants to roll his eyes at her implication that this was some joint scheme but simply nods and turns towards the silver doors the labcoat wearing shadow had been standing in front of. He catches his partner glare and returns it with a shrug while the redhead back is turned. After trying the door he walks back over his partner and gestures at the map which his partner moves towards the middle of them wordlessly. He hears the clack of Kasumi siding up near him and eyes her craning her neck from the corner of his vision. He shares another wordless exchange with his partner who silently rolls his eyes before moving the map so all of them can look it over easily.

"We should head up these stairs," he points at the map with gloved finger, "and scout out this floor." His partner merely hummed in agreement while Kasumi chirped something that sounded like "Ok".

The trio made their way up the steps with the phantom thief seemingly leading them, he was out front at any rate. He eyed another one those heart structures and a quick peak with his thief eyes revealed that it too contained something valuable. He sprinted forward and thrust his hand coming back with a some sort of technical bauble. He ignored his partner sneer and instead held it up for inspection, the little treasures could also give clues to the inner working of ruler's mind. It appeared to be a lens of some sort but before he could comment he heard something behind him. He spun around quickly and let muscle memory take over jumping on top of the shadow and ripping of it's mask before diving off in a fluid motion. The shadow burst and now there was suddenly two more familiar looking shadows before him, a Bugs and a Nebiros.

"Yoshizawa," he called out to her, deciding against calling out her given name here after quickly realizing they never gave her a codename before starting their infiltration, "use a Makougaon."

She quickly followed the order calling Cendrillon once more and unleashing the bless attack upon them. The Nebiros fell to one knee as expected wrapping its red cape around its prostrate form while the Bugs shrieked in anger. Before the hard clicking sound could leave his mouth his partner was there with his persona. Loki once more appeared and smacked the infernal teddy bear with it's bright orange sword. Joker pulled out his pistol and put the poor thing out its misery with a single shot before walking toward the remaining shadow.

"Hello Nebiros," he greeted like an old friend. The shadow eyed him like a spec of dirt, it made something dark curl in his gut. He felt his partner and his other companion walk up beside him, he noticed Kasumi held up a dull looking rapier and filed a mental note that he'd need to buy her proper gear if she was going to continue joining them in whatever this current venture was.

" **It seems you've lost your way, little one,** " Nebiros finally answered.

"I'd make with the money if I were you."

" **Is that truly what you desire? I suppose I can part with some coins but that won't get what you need, what you require can't be bought.** "

"I didn't ask for your advice," he holds the gun tighter and aims right at it's head. The shadow simply nods and hands over some yen, a paltry amount really. He frowned before leveling a look at his partner as if to say _"Really?"_

"We don't have all day," his partner retorted.

"Get going before I change my mind," he grumbled to the downed shadow.

" **Until we meet again, and give me regards to Master if and when you manage to reunite** ," Nebiros bowed before slinking away into the darkness.

"Master? What was he talking about?" the first-year asked. Joker only gave her a shrug and ignored the detective's puzzling gaze. They made their way up the second floor skulking along to avoid anymore shadows.

"Hmm I think there's a saferoom here," Akechi said while in front of double doors.

Akira wondered what other talents the seasoned persona-user had been suppressing during his brief stint with the Phantom Thieves. He briefly wondered if Akechi even needed them, especially himself give his compromised state. Had Akechi gotten more amenable to the idea of working with a team during that brief November or was Akira just dead weight? At least Kasumi could summon her persona and even if she was the least experienced of the bunch she definitely wasn't a slouch.

"Were you going to take a rest or just stand there?" He looks his partner leaning against the lockers along the wall arms folded. Kasumi has already taken a seat in one of the ottoman-esque chairs at the table in the middle of the room.

"Are you feeling ok senpai?" He nods automatically before approaching the table and putting his hands palms down on the table. His partner reacts automatically and comes off the wall and approaches the table.

"The shadows here aren't too strong, you haven't even had to summon any personas after all," his partner remarks giving the wildcard a side-glance before continuing, "I think we're more than good to keep going," he turns his head to the only persona-user sitting.

"Yes, definitely good," she speaks up once it became obvious it was her turn to do so. Again the thief simply nods and turns around ready to leave they'd barely explored the palace so there wasn't much else to discuss.

"Actually I'd like a moment with him, if you wouldn't mind Yoshizawa-san I'm sure you'll be fine if you stay close by." Kasumi looks at older boy then to Akira with a tight smile before wordlessly nodding and standing up. Umber eyes follow her out before snapping towards the puzzled thief.

"You can play-act all you want for Yoshizawa-san but not me," he says bitterly.

"Just get to the point," he's not in the mood for this right now.

"You're distracted."

"I'm fine."

"You can say that as many times as you like but it doesn't make it true," he feels his partner's gaze start to burn and it's different and familiar all at once. "Can you summon your persona?"

He would give the psuedo-detective credit but admitting weakness and to his rival. Although were they even still rivals? He felt his brain become untethered once more at the herculean task of pinning down Akechi Goro is an box. He absentmindedly adjusted his glove and rubbed a thumb over his wrist only to be reminded once more that his bracelet wasn't there. Luckily Joker was still here, like a warm embrace keeping him grounded.

"Just as well you can," he grinned.

It was a bit of a gamble, banking on the fact that perhaps his partner had also, at least until that moment earlier, had an been hit with radio-silence from this personas. He was fairly certain the boy only had two but they were each powerhouses in their own right especially Loki. He didn't know much about his fighting style as Black Mask, which seemed to lean towards hastiness, but he'd always previously shown an aptitude for softening up targets before with Robin Hood before going in for the kill. With the limited information he didn't know for sure if his earlier recklessness was just his normal operation as Black Mask or was motivated by his initial inability to contact his personas.

He waited for his retort knowing that he'd forced Akechi hand so that confirming the black-haired wildcard had an issue summoning his personas ran the risk of exposing weakness himself. If he knew anything about Akechi at this point it was that although he was absolutely a "cut of one's nose to spite one's face" kind of person he didn't show weakness, even a temporary one, easily.

"Oh? Strange that you didn't bother with it even when that shadow was bearing down on you earlier."

"What was all that about using abilities as needed?"

"This," he drew closer and pointed at the healed over cut in his vest , "didn't constitute a need?"

"It probably won't even leave a mark when we leave."

"And what about this," he ghosted his hands near his waist where the scythe had nearly gutted him.

"I'll admit to being a little rusty but it's nothing to panic over," he tries to pin down the older boy with a glare.

"Then what about THIS," he has his weapon in his hand in an instant and while the nimble thief parries the blow his grip on his dagger falters and it flies from him and clatters to the ground.

"Crow!"

"THAT's what would have happened if I hadn't been there," he can feel his angry hot breath as his partner chides him while lowering his saber, "you would of been defenseless, you wouldn't even had time to summon a persona assu-"

He acts instead of thinks for once and distracts the accusatory mouth with a kiss because nothing makes sense anymore. It's quick but it gets the job done before his partner can slice in him half, maybe he'll actually kill him this time.

 _Third time's the charm_ , overlays the screaming in his head. He's actually glad he doesn't feel his personas bouncing around in his brain at the moment because one voice screeching inside is enough.

"What the fuck?"

It takes him a split second to realize that had been said out loud by the bewildered boy in front of him and not in his head. He quickly taps into his old standards for derailing conversations, "Is that not a good enough reward for my knight in shining armor? Did you want something else?"

"Knight in..." he pushes away with less force than expected but still more than enough to sting a little, "What game are you playing at now?"

"Hmmm I guess that's more a 'detective prince' sort of thing you definitely had the outfit for it then although..." he uses the opportunity to rake his eyes on the outfit before him.

His brain burns, _God Kurusu really?_

"Are you saying you counted on me to save you? How stupid can you be, that entire thing was a ruse you-"

"But you did save me already, don't you remember?" he keeps grinning. His face hurts, why is he bringing this up?

 _Desperate much Kurusu?_ that voice bites.

"After trying to kill you and your friends or did you forget that part?" his partner snarls, eyes starting to get that wild look Akira's seen in nightmares and even in some of his more inappropriate dreams.

The more rational part of his brain would tell him to be scared or at least wary but somewhere along the line it had died an undignified death. Instead his body is just keyed up feeling like an outstretched rubber band ready to snap, pins and needles all over his skin. When did all these wires get crossed in his head? He has to salvage this before the rest of his brain manages to escape with his common sense and end up dead for real this time.

 _Third time's the charm,_ repeats in his head. When did he become so obsessed with sex and death?

"Are you familiar with Lacan?"

"I swear to-"

"I can't say I fully grasp the concept but supposedly the psyche can be broken into three parts The Real, The Symbolic and The Imaginary," he begins rambling hoping the third-year doesn't ask him to explain each of them and call him on his sort of bluff.

He had certainly skimmed some Lacan but found reading the original French impossible even with Arsène's help and had to rely on translations and mostly interpretations of his work and yeah maybe more than a few YouVid videos.

"What are you getting at?" the wild look in his partner's eyes is tempered by honest befuddlement.

"Well the 'Detective Prince' which is tied to Robin Hood is what you _imagined_ justice might look like, they represent a hero of justice as reflected back by societal expectations and even the expectations of the Phantom Thieves themselves, Robin Hood is literally a noble thief archetype," he paused for a moment to gauge his partner response only to be met with a wicked scowl which only spurred him on. "Loki however is suppose to be representative of the quote unquote real you, the things you hide about yourself."

"I do think that's still a bit of an oversimplification but WHAT is your point and you better be making it soon," his partner deepened his scowl but remained still.

Akira nodded before continuing, he was doing _more_ than a bit of reaching but he seemed to be hitting some sort of nerve, "The Real isn't necessarily anymore valid than the The Imaginary because direct experience not filtered by society is unattainable, everything you experience is through the filter of language, traditions, institutions and so on. To add personas into the equation they are in the end all masks, literally," he tapped his mask, "well sort of literally." It was honestly hard to tell where cognitive world and real world ended anymore or if there ever truly was a meaningful distinction.

"A persona is a Jungian concept, where there is 'real self', didn't that damn cat even say personas are a manifestation of the 'true self'?"

"Manifestations of the will of rebellion more specifically but we both have multiple so what does that say about us?"

"Isn't it obvious? The persona you awakened to is your true self."

"How did you obtain Robin Hood?" He didn't bother asking if Loki was first, it seemed obvious enough.

"What does it matter?" his partner asked rhetorically.

He wanted to ask the him so many more questions, but like always it didn't seem like the time. There was also his fellow wildcard's stubbornness and unpredictability, how would he react to being asked about the Velvet Room? Did he ever have access? Had he even ever met "Igor"?

His partner knit his brows and spoke up again. "It was a all ruse, don't you remember what Oracle said?"

The thief blinked, unsure for a moment what his partner was referring to. _Oh_ , he had almost forgot to be honest, everything about that day seemed to blur. He tried to remember, what had she said? Something about Akechi's personas representing lies and hate? "Don't you think that's just another oversimplification?"

"It's true enough, Black Mask is who I really am, you shouldn't forget that even in our current predicament," he spat bitterly. Akira could almost hear the _"and what I've done"_ left unsaid.

"So every single thing you ever said as the Detective Prince was a lie and everything you say as Black Mask is true?" He wasn't sure where this conversation was even going anymore, mashing together Lacanian and Jungian psychoanalysis, having things brought up he'd desperately tried to bury, but like everything else involving Akechi 'Goddamn' Goro things were slipping out his control. As usual he hated it.

"I- it doesn't change anything, I played you as the Detective Prince and as Black Mask it was all a stunt till the very end, none of it means anything, _I lost_ , the end," he sneered. "Now-"

"Those masks as real as any version of Kurusu Akira."

"You shouldn't...wait version of?"

"Friend, leader, follower, confidant, big brother figure, student, delinquent, patsy, son, test subject, informant, worker, toy, opponent, accomplice, prisoner, patient...rival," he listed his many masks saying the last once with a certain reverence.

His partner didn't say anything merely quirking his head at the various implications of his various guises. HIs eyebrow had shot up just a touch at "test subject" and then once more at "toy". When he got to "patient" he had quirked in his head and looked away at last as the word "rival" left his lips.

"So what everything about you is fake? How edgy," Akechi's voice grated in cocktail of bitter amusement.

"More of the opposite in a sense."

"I don't understand you."

"That makes two of us," he widens his grin, "now I think we should check on Yoshizawa it's been long enough goodness knows what she's thinking," he lilted his voice as he teased. He needed out this conversation before he said something really stupid or devil forbid the would-be detective questioned him by what he meant by "patient" or even worse "toy".

"Don't make me regret failing to kill you."

"Oh so you don't? You know just what to say to make a man feel special," he quipped while striding out of the door away from the murderous look his partner gave him.

"Joker! You still never answered my question," he didn't even have to look, he could feel the heat from those dusty garnet eyes.

 _All that talk and he's still going after you, what a botch Kurusu_ his mind chittered.

"I promise I won't put you or her in any danger," he said behind him reaching for the handle.

"That's not-" he didn't hear the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On time for once, hooray! Yeah as you may have already guessed there's going to be slight persona head canons here. Won't say much more on that since I want it to be a unraveling surprise. Also yeah expect some more haphazard philosophy thrown in. I thought about including more in depth terms and analysis but like I don't care how "too cool for skool" Akira supposed to be no 17 year-old really grasps Lacan (even as much as he claims too). He might strike some points here and there but I hope it comes across he's really doing some "armchair psychology" here (as if there was any other kind but I digress).  
> Chapter Preview Time!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
>  _"You seem unhappy, but you really doing this yourself the more you cling to the old reality while trying to exist in this new one the worse the pain is going to get."  
>  "Explain yourself!" Goro shouted more than a little annoyed at being ignored.  
> "Ah, yes my apologies I have gained the ability to alter reality you see. At last humanity's wishes will actually be granted," he explains with a rapturous look on his face. "Now anyone can achieve happiness, even you," the doctor seems to be boring his eyes into the boy slightly bent over.  
> "Who said I wanted to be happy?" the words are terse and spoken an almost impossibly low register.  
> "Is that how you really feel? Let go of guilt, of pain, of suffering I promise you'll both feel better. Yoshizawa-san's come so far partially due to your help, so why let that all go to waste? Let go of the past and embrace this new reality."  
> "What are you talking about? What did you do? Did you...you did something to us? To me?"  
> "I was really hoping it wasn't going to come to this, but if you really want to know Yoshizawa-san..." the sad look he gives her prickles Goro's skin. The sensation begins to burn as the doctor flits his gaze between the two boys before him before again settling on Joker, "I couldn't have done this without you, I'll leave it up to you to choose in the end. This reality I've tried to carve out of your's and humanity's honest desires or the cruel one that seemed more than happy to leave to the whims of fate once it was done with you"  
> "Joker what is he-" _


	7. Imagined Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio continue their infiltration and Goro suspects his the boy with more than one mask is holding something back but how do you pin down someone who never truly lies?

  
_That dumb boy was actually going to get himself killed. Did he actually have a death-wish or was he just addicted to danger?_ Goro couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't at all responsible if it was the latter. Normally that kind of thinking would be a bit too presumptuous for Goro but this was the boy who went from fumbling his simple coffee orders to curling up with the person who he apparently knew was tasked with his murder.

Did he just lack self-preservation instincts, having merely gotten this far by luck and relying on those friends of his? The thought made his gut twist until he was interrupted by the sight of Joker's torso corkscrewing against the shadow's gleaming scythe, reacting just in time to avoid having his guts spill out onto the pristine white floor.

 _Alright so he had **some** self-preservation instincts, _he muses. He hears himself cry out beside Yoshizawa. She'd been useful enough in combat thus far so he finds himself wretchedly hoping she does something since he still can't seem to feel Loki or even Robin Hood. He finds himself missing the other thieves, as unprofessional and crass as they could be when they got into sync they could deceptively devastating. He could personally attest to that.

Their cries seemed to have attracted the shadow's gaze and suddenly it's looking at them with some abstract version of a incandescent smile. Yoshizawa collapses and he can faintly here her whimpering about how useless and pointless it all is. The feeling of despair that exudes from the creature splashes uselessly against him like a raindrop in an ocean.

It's more aggravating than anything else and he gives into the anger starting to sizzle underneath his skin. The shadow is still smiling when it raises its weapon towards its injured prey. A searing fire licks at the back of his brain, his skin is blistering. He watches as Joker fires that strange pistol that now looks downright demonic at his attacker but it dodges and weaves only getting struck once. He hears laughter, thunderous and grating like claws, like hooves. He watches in slow motion as Joker lifts his dagger to block.

**Did you miss me _minn hrææta?_**

As always Loki's voice _burns_ but it's such a familiar and desperate ache that it makes him so delirious for a moment that all he can think is _Help_. For once he's grateful that Loki is a persona who has inordinate amount of agency, he doesn't so much as summon him as much as burst out of him, immediately swinging Lævateinn. The shadow flies through the air and _feels_ Loki smile at the little thief before flashing out of sight. 

"Why didn't you just do that before huh?"

"Unlike someone I know I only use my abilities as needed not to show off," the excuse comes easily because it's at least somewhat true, when he was by himself there was never any need to. He observes the eye roll that he receives in response and feels a sizzling hiss in his head which gives him a strange comfort. He aims his gun alongside Joker at the pitiful shadow and he basks in barbaric things Loki paints in his native tongue. Joker is trying to talk to this shadow for some reason.

_**Heimskrþjófr** _

It's not so much a word as a feeling that singes across his brain, a whole collection of them centered around a certain " _foolish thief_ ". He never bothered to question why Loki gave Joker his own pet name but it's fitting nonetheless even if doesn't always translate well. Most things Loki shared didn't anyway. Regardless he tries to be more diplomatic, "I don't think you're going to get anything out of this one."

"Hmm their loss," he hears him mutter before plunging his dagger and like clockwork they make quick work of it until there's a pile of sludge.

"Oh, uh...looks like we did it," Yoshizawa blithely observes.

"Yes I suppose _we_ did," he means to sound annoyed before giving up since she can't exactly be blamed, "it wasn't a total disaster despite the slapdash nature of our...team," he finishes carefully wondering if he's being presumptuous again. He expects Loki to hiss at him but the trickster is strangely quiet. It doesn't even leave him with a sense of relief but rather anxiety. His eyes dart to the boy downing a set of pills.

 _Curious_ , a voice echoes in his head. A persona would of likely been a quicker fix for what looks like a bothersome wound but then again perhaps all those times he'd nagged "dear leader" about conserving energy have struck a chord. He hasn't summoned any-

"Senpai are you ok, should we-" Yoshizawa somehow interrupts his train of thought.

"He's fine, he's had much worse after all," he cuts her off in response. He doesn't need her worrying honestly. He ignores the dark cackling stinging in the back of his mind, he wasn't even trying to be cruel, not really. "Anyway, it seems like ruler has some obsession with salvation, clearly they have some serious mental issues."

"T-they mentioned pain...and also research?"

"Yes, perhaps they're someone in the medical field given the focus on treatment? Although those poster boards I wonder..." he trailed off. The notes on the poster boards irked him, too much of it reminded him of Isshiki-san's research. There was also the way Kurusu had looked at them. He sees something out of the corner his eye, something that the shadow seemed to have dropped.

"Looks like map, definitely useful," he muses mostly to himself once he'd picked it up. He's trying to concentrate on it when he hears the not so hushed whispers of Yoshizawa. He just catches the thief quickly darting his eyes towards her although his helmet makes he difficult to look at them while still having his back turned and trying to be subtle unlike the redhead.

He doesn't make out much of what she says other than the words "callous" it's blaringly obvious what she's talking about. He allows himself the frown since no one can see it anyway. He does find other boy's answer amusing however, not so much the trite words of it and definitely not the blatant disregard for codenames even if they hadn't established this rule with Yoshizawa. No rather it's his delivery and the smile he gives her along with it. It's better than most of his, which does make that dark chord of jealously stir within, but he knows a practiced smile when he sees one. He decides to be _benevolent_ and break up the conversation.

"How about we save the chit-chatting for later and get going?" he asks almost intending to leave it at that until Yoshizawa jumps and he can't resist. "Unless allying yourself with such a ' _callous_ person' is more than you can stomach?"

"O-oh I was just..." he doesn't care for the look on her face ebbing from guilt into a more impish expression as she looks over to the fool as if her attempt at gossip was truly a concerted effort, "guess we got caught."

He didn't really expect an apology. He's maybe a tiny bit impressed how quickly she plays off being called out. Joker is still looking at her but just nods seemingly less in affirmation of her framing and more in acceptance that the conservation is over and walks off towards the doors. He shoots the dumb thief a glare anyway and isn't exactly impressed with the shrug he gets in return.

He says nothing at his failed attempt to open the door nor when he gestures at the map simply holding it between them. He doesn't even glare at him again when he gets the wordless look to move the map further over so Yoshizawa can see too.

 _Who says Akechi Goro is petty?_ he hisses to himself and he ignores the echo of laughter in his head instead dutifully listening to "leader" and his obvious direction to continue up the stairs. He lets Joker lead following him up the stairs. He's never worked as a team as "Black Mask".

 _How original_ a voice chimes commenting on the Thieves frankly boring moniker. He prefers the codename Kurusu had come up with, all the more fitting in his current attire rather than his prince getup.

That same nagging thought plagues him, _how long had the perhaps not so dumb thief suspected?_ He continues to let himself be lead around by the phantom thief. He'd be lying if he said Joker didn't have some knack for it, seeing him carry on without his thieves backing him. Still there was definitely something...off with the other wildcard. One could simply attribute to the bizarre, even by his standards, circumstances they found themselves in.

His thoughts were once again interrupted by the stupid thief nearly alerting a shadow while smashing some heart-shaped statuette to steal something. He almost opens his mouth to chide him but the would-be acrobat is already on top of the shadow tearing it's mask off. He vaguely recognizes the shadows and recalls that the red-cloaked one is susceptible to bless attacks. He feels around for Robin Hood but instead feels Loki pressing against his skull. _Whatever_ he thinks, Loki can wipe the floor with them with almighty attacks if needed.

"Yoshizawa," he hears Joker call out, "use a Makougaon."

 _Oh right, team mates_. He hadn't actually seen what her persona's element was. _How convenient_ , he thinks and feels Loki writhe. The red-cloaked one doubles over while the spooky teddy bear howls. He doesn't wait for the order he's knows is coming, which makes Loki hum. He watches as his persona strikes the floating nightmare. He looks over to see Joker using that outlandish pistol again to finish it off before striding up to the remaining figure. Joker greets it way too casually. He notices the dismissive look the shadow gives in return and makes note of the surprisingly dark look at flashes across his face as he joins him.

 **"It seems you've lost your way, little one,"** the shadow answered.

Goro resists the urge to yell out _"Is this thing serious?"_ He somehow manages to patiently listen to their exchange not even rolling his eyes as the thief predictably extorts it for money. The shadow is more cryptic than normal. He watches Joker's face as the shadow goes on. His face seems purposefully blank except for ominous look in his eyes until he frowns dispelling the tension. He interprets the exasperated look Joker shoots him as " _Seriously_?"

"We don't have all day," he says pointedly knowing the thief's penchant for bleeding shadows dry sometimes pushing them to the point where they'd get angry and have to fought down once more. Joker dismisses the shadow with a sullen look and almost ignores it's reply as it slinks off. _Did it just say master?_ Goro _wonders._

"Master? What was he talking about?" Yoshizawa practically echoes saving him the trouble, even if her approach lacks finesse.

He's annoyed but not at all surprised by the thief's non-answer. He curses himself for not bothering to learn more about the shadows he cuts down, certain it would of given some clue to whom the shadow might be referring to, likely one of Joker's various personas. He never took the time to recruit them like the other wildcard had. Loki wasn't really the type to share anyway, barely tolerating Robin Hood but recognizing it's necessity.

 _Wait what had he called it? Nebiros?_ he thinks. He plied Loki who didn't even give the courtesy of a hiss.

They were passing an unremarkable doorway skulking silently down the hallway when he felt it, that tell-tale sensation that heralded that the ruler's control was weaker here. Only through Loki had he been able to sense these little rifts but like everything else involving the trickster god the feeling was... poignant, like a rush of oxygen to the brain one's feels as they manage to surface right before they drown.

"Hmm I think there's a saferoom here," he apprized the others keeping his voice level. They shuffle inside with little fanfare. He notices Yoshizawa carefully maneuver herself to sit at the table and decides to simply lean against the lockers on the wall out of habit. He notices Joker still standing near the doors and his mind ticks back to the incident on the train. _Never happens on missions my ass_ he thinks to himself before piping up, "Were you going to take a rest or just stand there?"

The other boy looks at him then to the table, grey eyes seemingly alert, and he admits to himself that his thinking was _maybe_ a little premature.

"Are you feeling ok senpai?"

He makes note of the thief's practically instantaneous nod to Yoshizawa's broad question before reacting to him coming towards the table by doing the same, obvious he wants to hold a quick meeting before they continue.

"The shadows here aren't too strong here, you haven't even had to summon any of personas after all," he makes sure to give the thief a look before continuing, "I think we're more than good to keep going," he looks at Yoshizawa next in deference.

He'll concede, not out loud, that she's useful especially given their current predicament but doesn't want to simply assume she's good to go. The thieves had a habit of verbal confirmation of everyone's status whenever they stopped in a safe room, had that habit rubbed off on him too?

"Yes, definitely good," her answer is short but to the point. As usual the phantom thief leader only nods and makes to leave. Goro decides that he isn't putting up with it today.

"Actually I'd like a moment with him, if you wouldn't mind Yoshizawa-san I'm sure you'll be fine if you stay close by."

She looks to him then to boy in question and she seems to understand and thankfully says nothing besides the flash of uncertainty in her eyes. He waits until she's closed the door behind her before turning all his attention towards the annoyingly reserved boy with his hands in his pockets.

"You can play-act all you want for Yoshizawa-san but not me," he isn't dumb, he isn't just going to watch Kurusu play the silent hero again.

"Just get to the point," he replies in a remarkably curt tone.

"You're distracted."

"I'm fine."

"You can say that as many times as you like but it doesn't make it true," Goro knows that more than anyone and he's a little tired of this song and dance. He decides to take a page out of Yoshizawa's playbook and be direct, "Can you summon your persona?" He watches the thief fix his glove, a tic that he has seen a million times. He almost doesn't notice the thumb that grazes along his wrist, was that new? He quickly flits his gaze back up to avoid being caught.

"Just as well you can," the thief spits back and Goro doesn't like the grin that accompanies his retort.

He especially doesn't like the subtle implication that Goro was also having an issue with his personas. As it stood he could only summon Loki and he wasn't certain that would remain the case. There was something exceptionally strange about this place. Goro can see what Joker is doing trying to do, draw him into a gambit where Goro risked exposing his own weakness in an attempt to avoid revealing anything. He almost wanted to laugh at it, maybe even find a strange comfort of his familiar charade between them. He did allow himself a small smile, fine he would play this game again but he resolved to change the outcome. Kurusu and therefore Joker had experience handling the "Detective Prince" but not so much "Black Mask".

"Oh? Strange that you didn't bother with it even when that shadow was bearing down on you earlier."

"What was all that about using abilities as needed?" the thief threw his own words back at him. Goro didn't even blink. Time to play dirty.

"This," he lowered his voice slowly drawing closer flicking his eyes down using his still-clawed finger to point at the cut in the thief's vest, "didn't constitute a need?"

"It'll probably won't even leave a mark whence we leave," the smugness rolled off of him. Goro felt Loki stir.

"And what about this," he moved his hand down to where the scythe had nearly gutted the foolish thief.

"I'll admit to being a little rusty but it's nothing to panic over," Joker says airily as he was discussing a scraped knee before shooting Goro a menacing look. His skin burns and Loki is in his ear again.

"Then what about THIS," he expects his rival to repel his attack and isn't too disappointed even if he manages to disarm him of his dagger.

"Crow!" he hears him shout, as if he was still in control.

"THAT's what would have happened if I hadn't been there," the righteous anger burns pleasantly as he stares down those shining grey eyes, "you would of been defenseless, you wouldn't even had time to summon a persona assu-"

_Burning, searing, howling, screaming._

"What the fuck Kurusu?" he barks in a clipped shriek, he would normally pat himself on the back for keeping his voice down given the circumstances.

 _How dare he? **How dare he!**_ His lips burn. _After all this time and he just-_

"Is that not a good enough reward for my knight in shining armor? Did you want something _else_?"

"Knight in..." he resists the Loki's directive to slam him against the wall and compromises with a shove , "What game are you playing at now?"

"Hmmm I guess that's more a 'detective prince' sort of thing you definitely had the outfit for it then although..." he barely notices the thief eyes on him as he says this.

Goro's brain spins, trying not to combust from Loki's urging to plunge his claws into the boy before him, somehow it lurches forward to catch up to the current crisis, "Are you saying you counted on me to save you? How stupid can you be, that entire thing was a ruse you-"

"But you did save me already, don't you remember?" the fool practically snickered, there's something slightly manic about his grin. It sears into Goro's skin.

"After trying to kill you and your friends or did you forget that part?" he berates the thief. Loki is growling, raking its claws across his cerebrum. Thoughts he'd locked down and far away threaten to burst to the surface.

 _I tried to kill you twice and just attacked you, stop fucking grinning you fool,_ his brain shrieks before being drowned out by Loki's blistering weight. Images of ripping and tearing, pinning down the foolish thief and-

"Are you familiar with Lacan?"

"I swear to-"

"I can't say I _fully_ grasp the concept but supposedly the psyche can be broken into three parts The Real, The Symbolic and The Imaginary," the thief babbles.

 _Lacan?_ a voice bubbles up among Loki's gnashing. Goro was familiar with him, sort of. He'd read some critiques and analysis of the French psychoanalyst as well as other philosophers back when they could both pretend they didn't suspect each other during those drawn out arguments over coffee at Leblanc.

"What are you getting at?" he huffed settling into the familiar rut of acting he knew much more than his...rival.

"Well the 'Detective Prince' which is tied to Robin Hood is what you _imagined_ justice might look like, they represent a hero of justice as reflected back to by societal expectations and even the expectations of the Phantom Thieves themselves, Robin Hood is literally a noble thief archtype."

He noticed the prattling intellectual stopped for a moment suspecting Goro to interject but the older boy decided not to answer his assertions and just let him continue to ramble.

"Loki however is suppose to be representative of the quote unquote _real you_ , the things you hide about yourself."

"I do think that's still a bit of an oversimplification but _WHAT_ is your point, you better be making it soon," he felt Loki grumble in agreement. Goro's sheer curiosity had overcome his inner beast for now and perhaps he _maybe_ wanted to see where the would-be philosophizer was going with his haphazard Lacian analysis of his psyche.

"The Real isn't necessarily anymore valid than the The Imaginary because direct experience not filtered by society is unattainable everything you experience is through the filter of language, traditions, institutions and so on. To add personas into the equation they are in the end all masks, literally," he watched the thief tap his mask before frowning just a little, "well sort of literally."

"A persona is a Jungian concept, where there is 'real self', didn't that damn cat even say personas are a manifestation of the 'true self'?" He may have had one or two chats with the cat-thing, mostly in attempt to fish for information of course, under the guise of understanding the Metaverse.

"Manifestations of the will of rebellion more specifically but we both have multiple so what does that say about us?"

"Isn't it obvious? The persona you awakened to is your true self," he said triumphantly. Loki was his true nature, awakened in a state of pure fury after stumbling into the Metaverse and landing into a life and death situation. Loki promised glory, revenge, and blood, he'd accepted readily.

"How did you obtain Robin Hood?"

"What does it matter?" _Why was the dumb thief even asking?_ It was obvious Loki was first, Robin Hood came later.

Perhaps the enterprising psychoanalyst had been partially correct in that Robin represented some reflection of societal ideas on heroes the roots of which could possibly traced back through the years he'd spent crafting his public persona, but Robin Hood hadn't been a full-on persona until...until after he met some _unassuming_ boy at a T.V. station. Hadn't he suspected him even then? 

"It was all a ruse," the words fell from his mouth, Issiki-san's daughter's word flashed in his head, _One for your lies and one for your hate?_ "Don't you remember what Oracle said?"

"Don't you think that's just another oversimplification?"

"It's true enough, 'Black Mask' is who I really am, you shouldn't forget that even in our current predicament," the words sat sourly on his tongue. He needed to say them, he couldn't let that idiot forget, he was a murderer, an unwanted thing. This was just a temporary alignment, and if there was anything like justice in the universe it would fix it's mistake after they found out what was wrong.

"So every single thing you ever said as the Detective Prince was a lie and everything you say as Black Mask is true?" the asinine thief mocked in that voice Goro knew the delinquent always used in an attempt to goad him.

"I- it doesn't change anything, I played you as the Detective Prince and as Black Mask it was all a stunt till the very end, none of it means anything, I lost, _the end,_ " he squashed the useless feeling of sadness that dared to rise up. "Now-"

"Those masks as real as any version of Kurusu Akira."

"You shouldn't..." he trailed off, _Did codenames really matter now?_ "...wait version of?" he thought out loud for once.

"Friend, leader, follower, confidant..."

Goro listened as the multi-faceted teen listed the monikers,

"...big brother figure, student, delinquent, patsy, son, test subject..."

 _T_ _est subject?_ Goro thought, Issiki-san flooded into his head for a moment before he pushed it away.

"...informant, worker, toy," again the wildcard's words gave Goro pause but the protean boy continued "opponent, accomplice, prisoner, patient...rival."

Goro looked away as the versatile thief finished not wanting to see the look in his eyes as he finished, the apparent admiration in his voice prickled Goro's skin.

"So what everything about you is fake? How edgy," he mocked back angry for once again failing to gain the upper hand, not even sure what the point of this conversation even was anymore.

"More of the opposite in a sense."

"I don't understand you."

"That makes two of us, now I think we should check on Yoshizawa it's been long enough goodness knows what she's thinking," Goro bristled in the teasing intonation of the thief's voice.

"Don't make me regret failing to kill you," he grumbled hoping it sounded more threatening than resigned.

"Oh so you don't? You know just what to say to make a man feel special," the fool spouted before walking off.

"Joker! You still never answered my question," he narrowed his eyes staring daggers at the thief's back. There was a point to this, a reason he'd started this damned conversation in the first place. He clenched his teeth, he'd let that idiot completely derail their conversation.

"I promise I won't put you or her in any danger."

"That's not what I meant you..." he stopped when he realized Joker wasn't listening, watching his coattails flutter through the door, "sanctimonious prick." 

He quickly followed along, someone had to make sure that idiot didn't get himself or Yoshizawa, who'd probably fall on a sword for him, killed. He wasn't going to let this reckless scoundrel ruin Goro's sacrifice after all.

"Ready to keep going?" the red-headed figure posted up near the door chirped.

He watched Joker nod. No more words were exchanged and they slunk down the hallway. He saw the thief pause at a set of double-doors and stared at them for a moment with what appeared to be a scrunched up expression. Goro figured he was likely trying to recall the map they had looked over earlier, which the former assassin/detective had already committed to memory.

He knew from his prior investigation that the Phantom Thieves had started with only Takamaki, Sakamoto and Kurusu, and as he later discovered bewilderingly Kurusu's cat, who was actually some sort of sentient shadow? He was never certain other than he didn't really buy it's story about being a cursed amnesic human. Nevertheless Kurusu always had companions, teammates, guides. When he had joined Nijima and Sakura were already a ingrained members of the team, with the former's disciplined mind and the latter's strange persona and personal tech handily navigating them through Sae-san's palace as well as Mementos.

He had been a little astounded by Sae-san's little sister's ferocity in battle but had expected nothing less from Issiki-san's daughter with her commendable navigation skills. He hadn't been surprised at all to learn that Sakamoto was the team's heavy hitter and damage sponge, although the fact that Kitagawa fulfilled a similar role, albiet more with the artist's trademark dramatic flair and precision, had him slightly perplexed. Takamaki's outfit, practically fetish gear, had him more surprised than her own role which seemed to be a mix of damage-dealing and support about the same as Okumara honestly. Nothing about the cat/shadow/monster other than it's initial appearance surprised him actually, even the "Mona Bus" thing had made him more angry than anything after spending nearly two years riding on top of train cars to quickly get around the demented subway.

The jealousy he felt however, of just how much easier it was for Kurusu and his merry little band, still burned a little. So it wasn't a surprise that a small smile formed on Goro's lips as he watched the Phantom Thieves leader twitch his brow, likely feeling the absence of his team.

"This must be the door that leads to that circular room we saw on the map," Joker looked down the hallway to the stairs, "let's check that room down here first then we'll double back through here."

Goro huffed quietly, knowing that the atypical narration was entirely for Yoshizawa's benefit. The leader hadn't bothered so much when he'd joined the team, whether Joker had been testing him or just didn't care too much to assist the boy blackmailing him and his team Goro hadn't been sure. He had quickly acclimated to small gestures complemented with clipped commands he used to manage his team, he'd already gone accustomed to interpreting the body language of Joker's much more soft-spoken counterpart after all.

The after mentioned room contained nothing of interest really. Goro observed the thief's eyes as they darted to the various poster boards littered about containing more scribbles about research and happiness. The various cognitive forms in the room babbled on about not being able to wait to be examined and marveling over the process, whatever that was. The pseudo-detective felt even more confidant he'd been spot on when he'd used cult-like to describe this place. One treasure chest containing nothing special and minor swiped trinket later the trio found themselves back at the door leading to the next room.

Three pair of eyes quickly snapped to one of the large flat screen monitor in the middle suspended from the ceiling as they made their way inside, each zeroing in on the unmistakable sound of quiet sobbing. The screen displayed what appeared to be Yoshizawa's father mourning over a red-headed body covered in pristine white cloth. The scene ended as the man's progressive crying was interrupted by a young girl's voice. The mock detective eyed the red-head before him, noticing her troubled expression even under her mask.

"That was your father correct, Yoshizawa-san?" he rubbed his thumb along his bottom of his helmet lightly. "That girl..."

"M-my younger sister...Yoshizawa Sumire..." she took her eyes from the floor and turned to look at the younger boy, "remember when I said I'd lost a family member?"

Goro saw him nod from the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrows higher, his puzzled expression mostly hidden. Was Yoshizawa implying what he thought she was? He reviewed the admittedly few interactions he had with her the past, seeing small inconsistencies line up in his head.

"But this video, I don't understand how..." she doubled over clutching her head making a pained cry. He watched Joker reaching a hand out, wincing in sympathy,

"Are you alright?" his normally level voice sounding a bit strained.

"Sorry," she said almost inaudibly, "I've been getting these strange headaches and this unsettling feeling like...like-"

"Don't worry about it, let's just keep going." Goro regarded the boy next to him with his purposefully blank face and suddenly stony voice.

"Can you keep going Yoshizawa-san? I doubt things we'll get easier as we go on but it seems we have little choice if we wish figure out what's going in," he assuaged her letting something approaching tenderness seep into his voice feeling the strange need to compensate for his partner's sudden coldness.

The girl straightened out and lifted her head, "Yes, of course. Let's keep moving." She spun on her heels and began walking down the hallway. He sensed the younger boy was about to move when Goro stuck his hand out his claws grazing thief's bicep.

"Hey," he shot out to mollify the narrowed eyes scanning for the possible incoming threat, "what was that about?"

"What are you talking about?" Goro barely felt the urge to even roll his eyes, such vague questions never worked with Kurusu anyway whom he come to learn was obnoxiously adept at neither telling lies or the truth. He decided to instead ask a much more specific question.

"How long have you known Yoshizawa?"

"Since last spring I believe, why?"

"I was curious, since you seem to have a decent rapport and all," he replied effortlessly. The thief inspected him for a moment but Goro continued, "We should get going before Yoshizawa begins to think we're not coming," he chides not feeling remotely guilty now that he's the one using her to escape the conversation, "and after all who knows how much further we'll have to go."

They stride down the empty corridor to another set of doors and then another and another. Yoshizawa commented at one point at the odd splendor of their surroundings as they strolled down one of the glass corridors. The thought of Kitagawa waxing poetic about "the aesthetic" and how it might relate to the ruler's mind unwittingly popped into Goro's head before he quickly pushed it aside.

They kept moving till they found themselves in a room even stranger than any of the previous. It was barely lit appearing to be some sort of auditorium with strange equipment strewn about, projections of kanji mixed with hiragana repeating near gibberish about happiness played all over the walls and there were more flat-screens here showing an odd logo hung on the ceiling.

"Hngh," Yoshizawa yelped clinging to her head once more.

"Yoshizawa-san, are you-"

"I'm fine," she replied too quickly, "It's just that video..."

"You mean the one about-"

"Are you sure your okay?" the thief butt in.

"Yes senpai, thank you," she smiled brightly at the fool. "We should keep going, I want to find out what's going on too!"

Goro eyed the pair warily as they continued down the upper deck, getting the distinct and not unfamiliar impression there was something the younger wildcard wasn't telling him. Yoshizawa had said she mentioned losing a family member to him, had she specified which? How had she introduced herself to him? Clearly the boy who'd been sent on probation specifically because he couldn't keep his nose out of anything had to have known about the accident? These questions swirled in his head till another lab-coat wearing shadow accosted them blocking their way.

"Only pain awaits you if continue this pointless struggle"

"Pointless? Why do you keep talking about pain? What do you know about my struggle? Who's controlling this place!?" the redhead seemed to tremble slightly.

The shadow didn't answer her transforming into a massive red draconic demon with slicked black hair and thick silvery horns jutting out from some sort of metallic headband, in it's hand appeared to be a extremely long fork. Goro caught a strange expression flitting behind that domino white mask before being distracted by the sight of Yoshizawa running headfirst towards the beast.

He didn't catch her frayed shouting, likely more for herself, but watched as she threw herself uncharacteristically into the fight. Not a single one of her attacks hit and in a different scenario Goro might have had the urge to laugh. Instead he cursed himself, stuck with not one but two idiots with a death-wish.

"Keep it together Yoshizawa!" he shouted at her from his position at Joker's right. He heard her reflexive apology but kept going, "you need to calm down and stop rushing into things."

"I-" she shut her mouth.

On the surface he knew how that sounded coming from him, having already been on the receiving end of the girl's criticism. Goro's seeming recklessness came from years of honed practice however, he wouldn't say he never lost himself in a fight but usually he was just at the edge between control and being swallowed up by the jaws of entropy. That was what Loki was after all. If Yoshizawa wanted to see how that was done he'd show her.

"Watch me, ok?"

He didn't wait for her reply before rushing the shadow which seemed to been amusing itself watching the little humans squabble. He circled as it tried to jab at him with it's fork. He touched his mask to summon Loki with right hand whilst grabbing his gun with his left. He timed his attack with his persona, a skill which required pristine focus made all the more difficult by the bloodlust the trickster god sang in his ear. He usually opted, especially with Loki, to either let his persona attack or attack himself like the other thieves did but he wanted this fight to be over quickly.

The demonic shadow had started to shift away to dodge the black and white blur when Goro's bullets began to pierce it leaving the creature wide open to the trickster's barrage of energy as it cast on it's prey. Rather than howl the beast snarled angrily whipping it's tail around. Goro just managed to jump away in time feeling the gust of wind push him back a little from the force of it's attack.

"Ok my turn!"

He watched Yoshizawa dash to other side of the beast summoning her persona as she did so. She didn't try to time her attack with her persona as Goro had, not quite anyway, instead using her persona to make an opening for herself to attack with her rapier. The bless attack singed it's skin making the beast's surprisingly human like face scowl for a moment before the rapier bounces of it skin making the beast grin wickedly while snapping it's gaze to her. It starts to say something to her and Goro sees the light fading from her eyes.

_BANG!_

The booming sound of Joker's pistol seems to hit the creature like a shotgun blast. It narrows its eyes at him.

" **You!** " it tries to shout but instead comes out in a hiss.

"Yoshizawa get back!" Goro shouts out at her while touching his mask again using the beast's momentary fixation on Joker to focus all his attention on summoning Loki. The trickster god springs forth once more fully aware of Goro's intention. Loki waves it's hands letting a devastating megidolaon rip through the hall. Somehow the beast is still standing but has fallen to one knee using it's weapon to hold itself up.

**"Such fools, very well succumb to pain and suffering."**

It disappeared in a burst of inky blackness. A noise behind the trio caught their attention. A voice pumped through a P.A. system gushing about someone's performance, mentioning something about gymnastics. That's when Goro saw her on top of a stage, Yoshizawa's sister apparently being interviewed.

He saw Yoshizawa listlessly walk forward a few steps before being rooted to the spot. He watched the thing that wore Yoshizawa's sister's face call out to her saying her name. He looked over Joker who had his eyes cast slightly downward, but expression otherwise unreadable. _Did he not know?_

The cognition or whatever it was continued to go on, about dreams of both of them winning big but it only seemed to worsen Yoshizawa's condition until she finally cried out and almost collapsed to the floor. She held her hands to her head as she squatted seeming to writhe in pain. Goro was about to open his mouth, feeling the need to say something if his partner wasn't.

" _I'm so sorry about that but I hope you understand now..._ "

Goro looked upwards and around looking for the source and what appeared to be a man's voice. Was there something familiar about it?

" _Just let go and accept things as they are now, I want to alleviate your suffering not be the cause..._ "

"All this talk about suffering, I have no idea what you're talking about it but I'm not going to just back down now!" Yoshizawa shouted back.

A small part of Goro wanted to admire her determination, as naïve as it was. His thoughts were preoccupied with his partner who simply stood there with his aggravatingly blank face, guess it was up to him once more.

"I agree, now why don't you come out and face us? I want to see the ' _man behind the curtain_ ' unless you really are too much of a coward?" There was a bout of silence before the voice spoke up once more.

" _Very well, please head down and I will meet you there._ "

"That was easier than I anticipated, I wonder if this ' _great and powerful Oz_ ' will truly show himself," he chuckled lightly to himself. He watched Joker give him an unimpressed glare before taking a step towards Yoshizawa.

"Are you..." the leader started then closed his mouth shut.

"I'm fine! Let's go," she replied quickly before turning on her heels to leave.

Goro tried to share a glance with the other boy but Joker was already making his way down the hallway. He felt Loki sizzle in the back of his mind but pushed it down and followed along intent on seeing this voice face to face.

Soon enough they make their way down the steps leading to floor area of the auditorium. A man dressed in immaculate all white suit stands nonchalantly with one hand in his pocket. Goro didn't bothering resisting the immediate urge to sneer at him. He turns and Goro narrows his eyes at his slicked black hair. Has he seen this man somewhere before?

"Dr. Maruki?" he hears Yoshizawa gasp. He vaguely recalls a strange conversation he had with a man in passing.

 _Maruki, Maruki, Maruki_ his brain repeats. Wasn't the the name of the therapist assigned to Shujin after the Kamoshida case blew up?

"I'm glad to see you all, even under these circumstances," his smile radiates a certain genuineness that makes Goro's stomach churn. "I figured you might try to infiltrate this place, even if I tried to make it difficult," he flits his gaze to Goro and then to Joker. "Guess I really underestimated you," his eyes stare straight at Goro now.

He narrows his eyes at the doctor, angry but wary at the therapist's implication that he is behind his initial trouble summoning his persona, as well as Joker's most likely. He isn't sure why he'd been able to break free while the other wildcard seemed to be still unable unless the cheeky bastard had just been holding back this whole time.

"Y-you're the ruler of this palace?" Yoshizawa's voice quavers.

"Hmmm yes, to use your terminology although it's quite different from the one's you've come across before I imagine," the doctor is looking at Joker now an unasked question seeming to linger on his face.

"And I assume you're the one responsible for the distortions in reality as well?" Goro jumped in, some one needed to get the bottom of this.

"Distortions? Hmm I guess you might see it that way I'll admit it still needs some work, still have you enjoyed yourself thus far?" his cool brown eyes are back on Joker.

"What are you-" Goro starts in astonishment.

"Maruki" Joker's voice is a low growl forced through clenched teeth.

"You seem unhappy, but you really are doing this yourself I'm afraid," the doctor frowns, "the more you cling to the old reality while trying to exist in this new one the worse the pain is going to get."

"Explain yourself!" Goro shouted more than a little annoyed at being ignored.

"Ah, yes my apologies I have gained the ability to alter reality you see, at last humanity's wishes will actually be granted," he explains with a rapturous look on his face. "Now anyone can achieve happiness, even you," the doctor seems to be boring his eyes into the boy that's now slightly bent over.

"Who said I wanted to be happy?" the words are terse and spoken at almost impossibly low register.

"Is that how you really feel? Let go of guilt, of pain, of suffering I promise you'll both feel better. Yoshizawa-san's come so far partially due to your help, so why let that all go to waste? Let go of the past and embrace this new reality."

"What are you talking about? What did you do? Did you...you did something to us? To me?"

"I was really it wasn't going to come to this, but if you really want to know Yoshizawa-san..." the sad look he gives her makes Goro's skin bristle. The sensation begins to burn as the doctor flits his gaze between the two boys before him before again settling on Joker, "I couldn't have done this without you, I'll leave it up to you to choose in the end. This reality I've tried to carve out of your and humanity's honest desires or the cruel one that seemed more than happy to leave to the whims of fate once it was done with you"

"Joker what is he-"

"Ah but I'm getting ahead of myself, first let us deal with the current issue at hand," the doctor interrupts Goro again before snapping his finger which seems to cause the lights to go dark.

Loki is pouring vile thoughts onto his mind like tar now but before Goro can act on his desire to lunge for the doctor's throat the huge flatscreen above them comes to life. There's a countdown with roman numerals as if this was some cheesy b-horror trailer or advert. Goro wants to scoff before he feels drawn into the screen before them.

_He sees Yoshizawa's sister, her reddish brown hair and warm brown eyes staring back at him reassuringly. He seems to feel Yoshizawa shake her head at her sister watching his vision shake. He listens on the elder sister tries to comfort her sibling explaining away the younger Yoshizawa's apparent shortcomings._

_"...we'll reach the top of the world together," the elder sister says and Goro can feel the hollowness that had sat in the younger sister's chest. "That's our dream."_

_"You just don't get it, you'll never understand how I feel," there's a bitter hopelessness that tries to worm its way into Goro's heart._ _Goro is used to the sensation but the alien feeling of someone else's despair is mildly disorientating._

_He barely registers the glut of memories that pass by as he feels/watches the younger sister run towards the crosswalk. They're all tainted with he same feeling, being second-best. The feeling of being unwanted curls deep into Goro's gut._

_Time seems to freeze at he looks out at the elder sister outstretched hand and wide eyes. The sound of squealing tires and metal make him close his eyes. When he opens them he no longer looking through Sumire's eyes but at her. Her crumpled form sitting up on her knees a tell-tale look on her eye. A thought slips unbidden through Goro's mind wondering if he'd looked just as miserable once._

_The scene ends with rainwater tinged with blood and the small voice of the younger sister calling out to her sibling, "Kasumi..."_

He feels Loki roar in his brain as he comes back to himself and he has to steel himself from the pain. A small noise diverts his attention and he realizes it's the sound of Yoshizawa crying, her ponytail has come undone and the strands of hair are sticking to her face, she's not wearing her black leotard and long coat anymore. Somehow she looks smaller than before clad in her large red peacoat.

"So you've remembered," the doctor's voice seems tinged with sadness.

"Y-yes.."

"Kasumi?" Joker asks seemingly bewildered. Goro studies him while trying to keep an eye on Maruki.

"No..that's not...I'm not Kasumi."

"Did you really not know?" Goro asks the thief.

"I...I didn't know that...I never expected _this_ ," he gestures towards the doctor and Yoshizawa with a pained yet utterly hollow expression.

The phantom thief brief loss of composure makes Goro slightly more inclined into believing him. They pause to listen to the broken girl recounting of her sister's death.

"...It should have been me, her pitiful younger sister, the less talented, less popular," she fell inwards on herself towards the ground, "I took Kasumi away from the world, I...I..." she broke into sobs.

"It's ok," the doctor voice seemed kind, "I can explain the rest." He snapped his gaze to the boys standing beside her,

"She is indeed Yoshizawa Sumire, the younger sister of the late Yoshizawa Kasumi and has for months been living out her life as her deceased elder sister," his voice was borderline clinical like he was describing a routine surgery.

Goro felt his eye twitch but listened to the therapist continue, "To the world however she was still Sumire-san having only her cognition changed at the time although..." he fixed his gaze on the black-haired boy on the girl's right,"...you always believed she was Kasumi...in fact I go so far as to say you were vital in helping her adjust to her life as Kasumi."

Goro glances over the boy in question but it's hard to see his face from this angle, but his stance oozes tension.

"That's not...I wasn't..." the boy stops and starts, he sounds unlike himself, frustrated almost desperate, "She had a pocketbook that had Kasumi's name and she never...YOU NEVER...you fucking hypocrite, you never told me-"

"Ah to be fair Akira-san," Goro almost balked for a moment at the doctor's use of Kurusu's given name but the boy didn't even seemed fazed, "you never directly asked _what_ I did to Yoshizawa-san," there's a subtle smugness to his voice that makes Goro sneer.

"Fuck you," the thief word's aren't composed or careful.

"S-stop," Yoshizawa-san mutters meekly from her position, now sitting back slightly on her heels, face still half buried in her arms, "I was the one who told Dr. Maruki that I wanted to become Kasumi, so our dreams could still...so that she could still achieve her dreams."

"Really?" Goro leveled his gaze at the doctor, "You messed with a grieving girls cognition, to what...make her feel better?"

"It was what she wanted."

"That's" the boy on the right voice sounded strange, sounding smaller and smaller, "selfish."

"That's interesting coming from you Akira-san," those brown eyes fixed their gaze on the dark-haired boy before softening slightly, "Sumire-san was in a very bad place when she first came to see me. I won't go much further into detail, as I do try to uphold some semblance of patient confidentiality even in a place like this."

Goro heard the thief's scoff but the doctor simply continued, "Imagine the survivor's guilt she faced, how would it even be possible to heal from such deep emotional scarring?"

The doctor flicked his gaze towards the boy on his left, "I can't say I know much about your story Akechi-san but I've seen what a loss of a loved one can do," he looked back at the boy on his right, "and some scars are much too buried to see let alone treat."

Both boys scowled at the man before them but before either could retort he continued, "If Sumire-san can be happy again by living out her life as Kasumi-san, then who am I to say that's wrong? I already had the power at the time to grant her wish, even if I did not yet realize it's true potential, I truly believe this will allow Sumire-san to live a healthy productive life."

"Oh your insane," Goro commented offhandedly, "if you really believe that I mean, otherwise you're just spouting bullshit to justify using this girl to further your research, I saw those poster boards littered all around...you just wanted everyone to acknowledge your findings, to acknowledge you," the words are acrid, and Loki thrumming laughter at the irony of his words make his blood boil.

"Of course I wanted acknowledgement," Goro wants to brain him for how easily the admission comes out the doctor's mouth, "but only because I believe in cognitive pscience, so I can use it to help others. I only want to create a reality where no one has so suffer like Sumire-san did!"

Goro wanted to scream, he wanted to tell his this doctor how stupid and naïve he was. The world WAS suffering, Goro's world was suffering, what would he even be without that? He couldn't help but glance over at the boy on the right and found himself at a loss. It was still hard to make out the expression lingering under that domino mask but he looked down to see those red gloves tightened into trembling fists.

"And now, I finally have the power to make everyone's wishes a reality, using my research no one will have to suffer at the cruel hands of fate anymore. This place, this _palace_ was born from that desire, saving humanity using the knowledge and power I've gained. No one else can, I have a responsibility to do so..."

"And who said I wanted to be saved?"

"Akira-san...you know I wouldn't ever gotten this far without you," Goro saw the boy's hand tighten even further, "I'm sorry for making it so hard on you but isn't that what you wanted? A normal life?"

"Shut up shut up _shut up_ ," Goro eyes widened as he saw the boy before him start to lose control.

"You don't remember do you? It's fine it doesn't matter, I'm not going to give up on perfecting this reality, with your help I'm su-"

" ** _SHUT UP!_ ,**" he screamed in a wretched desperation Goro's not sure he's ever heard from the other boy.

"I can see how shifting things around might have led to some undesirable results," the doctor glanced at Goro, "I didn't expect he'd seek you out you so quickly, it's clear you're still not ready...I apologize for that."

"I've heard enough too, Maruki," he feels his grasp on the situation slipping, doesn't like all the compounding implications that Akira knows more than he's telling but he likes this smug doctor even less, "I won't be a pawn in your little game any longer. I absolutely refuse to be brainwashed into living in your 'perfect' reality."

"Unfortunate, it seems I've underestimated you on multiple fronts Akechi-san. To think you'd have a persona like that..." he shook his head and took a breath, "Still what do the rest of you think? What about you Yoshizawa-san?"

Goro took a moment to think while the girl on the floor puzzled over what the doctor was asking of her. There was a feeling radiating down his spine but rather than any kind of burning gnawing sensation it left him cold. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in some time, _fear_.

After all here was a man who could raise the dead. A terrifying thought gripped him. Was he even real? Was he also just a byproduct of some else's cognition? It might explain the inexplicable control the doctor seemed to have. He was somehow suppressing the wildcards' personas with the exception of Loki, who once again lived up to his title of "Trickster God".

He wondered if this had something to do with the other boy's wish, something about a normal life? Where on earth did Goro fit into any of that? His thoughts were brought to a halt by the doctor deciding to ask Yoshizawa out right what she wanted.

"Do you wish to return to your life as Sumire or would you rather continue living as Kasumi? I'll respect whatever you decide."

"I-I..."

Goro might have expected other boy to say something, but he just saw him clutching his dark hair with his face twisted in what appeared to be pain, so he did instead "Yoshizawa-san..." he began, "you can't let him manipulate you."

"I...I'm sorry," she said and she slowly stood up on shaky legs, "I can't go back to being Sumire, do you have any idea what that's like to live knowing you led someone you care about to their death!"

Goro bit his tongue so he wouldn't scream at her, he felt Loki trash against the confines of his mind. Of course he knew what that was like, he might be the only person here that did. He glanced once again to dark-haired boy on the other side. He was no longer clutching at his head he seemed to have flinched at Yoshizawa's words.

"Please don't be angry with her," the doctor said looking more towards Goro who must have been sporting quite the expression on his face, "it isn't our place to judge how we handle grief," now he looked towards Joker.

He blinked slowly, taking a deep breath before starting again, "Like I said before I realize I've made some mistakes but only because I wished to create a reality in which you both could be happy, but you are...how can I put this?" a troubled expression ran across his face, "Difficult to please? No that's not right...you both seem resistant to finding happiness...you truly are alike in a lot of ways," he chuckled.

"I've had about enough, what about you Joker?" Goro called out hoping to rope the boy back from where ever his mind had gone.

"You never really answered me, Akira-san, are you really rejecting this reality?"

Goro waited for the boy's response but nothing came, he couldn't help but glare at him, "This really isn't the time for your silent hero shtick!"

"Please, don't push him, I can see that were not going to make a deal right now," the doctor chastised him before turning his gaze to the trembling girl between them, "Yoshizawa can you come here please?"

She took a unsteady step forward before Goro held out his hand. The doctor's face darkened for a moment before looking at the labcoat wearing shadow next to him with what seemed to be a silent command. The next thing he knew there blinding lights and what looked like a tentacle wrapped around Yoshizawa.

"What the fu-" Goro started to say before composing himself slightly, "What are you doing with her!?" The tentacle gently laid the girl, who seemed to have passed out, into the doctor's arms. He wore a solemn but gentle expression. He was really starting to hate this man.

"She's safe here. I only want to honor Yoshizawa-san wishes, but it will be impossible to do so if you reject this reality, the one where she can truly live as Yoshizawa Kasumi."

"This is..." he heard the thief start to say but faltered. What kind of hold did this man have over him? How could someone who purported to be his equal, whom he'd lost to, hesitate now?

**Oh _minn hrekkjalómur_ do you regret it now? _Ekki drepa Heimskrþjófr?_**

Goro shoved Loki back into a box in his mind despite, as always, it being an entirely futile endeavor.

"Maruki... _Takuto_..."

The doctor seemed a little taken back my dark-haired boy's informality but not as much Goro who stared incredulously.

"I don't want to make either of you suffer. You both suffered enough, please I don't want conflict. We can talk, you really can find happiness, I can make that reality, please just let me help you."

"I already t-" Goro stopped short, struck by the sound that started low but was soon reverberating around the room. It took a moment to realize it was laughter. While the unassuming boy who went by Kurusu Akira could of never made such sounds Goro supposed Joker at least possessed the capability. He'd only heard the occasional dark chuckle when intimidating shadows or after a tough fight however. It was _never_ like this, raw, borderline manic.

"Help me!?" his voice sounded rough and broken, he was clutching his head again, his red gloves wound tight in his dark curls, his eyes looked unfocused staring slightly downwards. "Haven't you done enough?" those grey eyes locked onto the doctor. "Who ever said I _wanted_ to be happy? I've suffered enough?" he was nearly shouting and broke back into piercing laughter for a moment. "What gives you the right to decide!?"

" _Akira_..."

The next thing Goro knew there was a massive persona lunging towards the doctor. It was almost difficult to look at, there seemed to something like fins or wings sticking out and six blue carapace-like extensions coming from his strange body of the same color which seemed to have six limbs to match along with a large snake tail and other strange white tentacle appendages. The room had suddenly become unbearably cold. It's shriek was otherworldly and pained as it brought a colossal wave of ice towards the doctor.

"Joker!" he shouted out uselessly, honestly shocked he'd put Yoshizawa's life in peril yet before the words had finished leaving his mouth he noticed something behind Maruki. There was something that seem to flutter into view just for a moment and the persona's attack just...did nothing. It almost looked as there was some sort of barrier around the doctor.

"Violence is really not my forte, I really didn't want to do this," he sighed looking genuinely forlorn before turning to the lab coat wearing shadow on his right with what seemed to be a wordless command.

The shadow walked forward almost like a marionette before exploding into a massive dark tentacle beast with what looked like a torso and sectioned legs. Parts of it glowed a sickly strange yellow.

 _More tentacles?_ an unbidden voice commented inside Goro's head. He looked at his partner, whose mask was back on his face and looked a touch more composed having temporarily dismissed the hulking persona from earlier.

"Are you with me?" he asked and the nod he received would suffice, for now. "Fine...don't do anything reckless," he said despite how useless it felt.

He thought he'd feel more relief at the fact his counterpart had broken the strange hold the doctor seemed to have had on him, but all he had was deep sinking feeling. He turned his attention towards the enemy, he couldn't afford to lose focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki speaks old norse (or as close as I could make it, forgive me) extremely rough translations as follows:
> 
> minn hrææta -"my corspe eater"  
> minn - my  
> hrææta carrion-eater, scavenger
> 
> Heimskrþjófr - "foolish thief "  
> Heimskr - foolish, silly; who has never been from home  
> þjófr - thief
> 
> minn hrekkjalómur - my "Trickster"  
> minn - my  
> hrekkjalómur - prankster, traitor 
> 
> Ekki drepa Heimskrþjófr? - Not killing/smiting/knocking the foolish thief? (What Loki really means by this is left vague on purpose).  
> Ekki - not  
> drepa - kill, slay; strike, smite; knock
> 
> No chapter preview this time sorry >__<


	8. I Dreamed A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira comes to senses, in a manner of speaking, and somehow manages to once again deflect a boy who might have made an excellent detective. So now he gets to "enjoy" this new reality that the good doctor has crafted for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, its been a hot minute but I promise I am NOT abandoning this story. I have a ton more notes and things planned it's just been work has been super busy (I know I know but it's true).
> 
> So I had this chapter about half done like 2 weeks ago but I didn't want to post a short one. I don't know would y'all prefer shorter chapters (i.e. 3,00-5,000 words) that come out every week or longer chapters (8,000-10,000 words) that might be every other week? (or ahem maybe longer because this pandemic is throwing me for a loop from week to goddamn week)
> 
> P.S. A Le Mis reference in my fanfiction? It's more likely than you think. Feel free to listen to it as you read, for those extra feels.

Seething black tar bubbles up from somewhere in his head drowning him from the inside out. Everything seemed out of focus, far away. He heard shouting. Was that his own voice? It didn't sound like him.

_Normal life._

The word ricocheted throughout his brain.

More words, more pain, more tar, it's all spilling out. He just wanted it to stop. This isn't what he wanted. What did he want?

He heard a new voice now. Harsh, angry, but not directed towards him. He wanted to reach out to it but his limbs refused to answer him.

More voices now, he tried to follow along, to peek his head out above the waves of agony trying to hold him under. Maruki was asking Kasumi something. _Not Kasumi_ his brain corrected she was...who was she now?

He heard the harsh voice again, it was softer now. It was saying something to that girl.

The girl stood, she was saying something. He only caught a piece of it, which lodged into his brain like shrapnel.

"...do you have any idea what that's like to live knowing you led someone you care about to their death!"

The doctor, Maruki, is speaking again. Something about them, something about happiness. There was a sick feeling brewing in his stomach. He wanted to vomit it out, to expel the tar, the pain. They were asking him questions but his throat felt like asphalt.

The harsh voice was finally speaking to him, but it was angry.

There were bright lights now, his hands moved instinctively to cover his face. That girl was with Maruki now. Why is he doing this? This isn't...

 _What did you expect Kurusu?_ _You didn't trust him and you let him in anyway, almost sounds familiar..._

"This is..." he tried to get out not even sure what he wanted to say. That this was wrong? Did he still have the right to make such a judgement? He felt something throb, something cold and foreign. He just wanted this to stop, he needed to get control back somehow, "Maruki... _Takuto_..."

He saw the doctor's lips spread into a thin line and clung to that small victory like a lifeline. It didn't at all shield him for what his therapist said next.

"I don't want to make either of you suffer. You both suffered enough, please I don't want conflict. We can talk, you really can find happiness, I can make that reality, please just let me help you."

He felt something inside himself shatter. The sick feeling inside bubbled over. It took him a moment to realize he was laughing, had his voice always sounded so jagged?

"Help me!?" he parroted the words back. "Haven't you done enough?" he looked at him, at the man who said he wouldn't ever stop trying no matter how masks or bitter words he threw out . _Even so_... "Who ever said I wanted to be happy?" Who said you deserved it? "I suffered enough?" _What a jok_ e. "What gives you the right to decide!?"

 _What gives you?_ That same cold feeling in the back of head seem to answer that question, pressing along the borders of his subconscious.

He heard the doctor's voice once more and it acted like a key, freeing something that was writhing just below the surface of his subliminal self. He shouldn't have been surprised who it was that came bursting forth from his mind, his heart, his mask. Still he tensed up as the familiar feeling of not quite pain but not quite pleasure rushed through him and "The Angel of Judgement" roared in his head. He let himself go, submerging himself into that icy embrace.

His partner's cry pulled him back out and he thought he saw something flicker behind the doctor just for a moment. He saw the wave of ice he apparently let Satan unleash dissipate, both Maruki and the girl unharmed. He felt his persona disperse back into the mask that reappeared on his face, the prince of darkness receded back into the corner of mind it came from. It wasn't alone, he could distantly feel others the shifting amongst the once carefully segmented parts of his mind.

"Violence is really not my forte, I really didn't want to do this," he heard Maruki sigh and look towards the lab-coat wearing shadow accompanying him.

The mock scientist lurched towards them and in a moment another shadow he'd never seen exploded forth and began hovering before them. It was like something out of nightmare, a horrific cross between some sort of black tentacle creature and an archaic yet altogether alien lantern. He heard a little girl's laughter from somewhere in his head.

"Are you with me?" he heard his partner ask. He nodded in response. "Fine...don't do anything reckless," he thought there'd be more callousness is voice. He almost sounded concerned and that worried him.

He tried to not to think about the interrogation waiting for him once they got out of this, it wasn't a question of if they would. He was going to demolish Maruki's bizarre little pet while the hypocrite watched.

**"Why do you continue to resist our lord's salvation? Have you grown so use to pain and suffering you cannot leave it behind?"**

The beast's words resounded hollowly in his head. He thought he heard his partner start to say something when he opened his mouth, "I'm really going to enjoy ripping you to shreds," he felt a certain part of his mind coo in response.

"Hmph, well said," his partner huffed.

They tensed as the beast made a strangled howl, despite appearing to not have any sort of mouth, thrashing its numerous dark tentacles and letting out a massive burst of energy. He felt the searing pain of an almighty attack that reached throughout his core and heard his partner grunt as he weathered a sharp attack from the beast's tentacles having no time to dodge from the sudden onslaught. He touched his mask to reach for a persona to heal him but his partner was already popping something into his mouth.

"Don't worry about me idiot, just kill this thing!"

He obliged, rooting around his head. He hadn't kept quite as many personas on hand near the end of their time as the Phantom Thieves. He often cycled them out as needed, preferring the crushing weight but _relative_ calm of a handful of powerful personas over the incessant buzz of a crowd.

He could feel six partitions in his psyche although at this point they felt more like ruptures, not counting Arsène of course which he never did anyway. He could feel something beneath the gentlemen thief , powerful yet impossibly distant, he pushed it away and looked elsewhere.

He took a little longer than he would of liked calling one forth, unsure if it was rust or just the current jumbled nature of his head, so he plucked one that seemed to be at the forefront of his mind. He felt a mixture of anguish and relief as Metatron appeared before him.

"The Angel of Contracts" glanced at him with that permanent scowl, it's eyes flickered with something approaching sadness before looking over to his partner. He expected it to say nothing, the angel rarely ever spoke to him, but the "Voice of God" apparently had something to say to his companion.

**"I wonder Justice, do you too despair having to abide the company of demons?"**

His partner balked for a moment but they were interrupted by the tentacled shadow, who let out another impossible howl. Air seemed to sucked out the room for a moment before a blast of wind struck them. He barely felt anything, being protected by Metatron. Once more his partner braced against the sudden attack although this seemed to hurt him far less than the previous one.

He felt the angel's disdain for the writhing mess as the persona turned it's full attention towards it. The beast before them may have not been a demon exactly but it was still an abomination according to the herald. Some habits die hard he guessed.

_An orange-skinned angel hovered before him blocking their path. Structures of bones surrounded them and the sky wept with blood. Behind the golden figure stood a massive prison where the false god waited on the top of it's Qliphoth born from the wretched dreams of the subjugated masses._

_He touched his mask and the silver-skinned angel burst forth, metallic wings gleaming even amongst the storm._

_**"How can this be? How can such a blasphemous devil-spawn wield the Shadow of God?"** _

_**"You have lost your way 'one who is like God'. I would rather conspire with fallen angels than obey false gods."** _

Sometimes it was hard to tell where his personas ended and he began.

The herald raised it's hand and seven ornate great swords hovered in the air for a moment before striking down into their target. The beast thrashed and screeched dripping black ooze onto the white tile below but still stood.

"Not bad but it's my turn now," his partner declared before unleashing Loki who swung Lævateinn with such speed and force it created a small gust of wind. The persona turned it's head towards him, and once more it's sharp red teeth as it made a frankly unreadable expression sent a wave of fear but also anticipation through him.

The beast made an ear-splitting shriek before slumping forward slightly. He was letting a small smirk creep across his lips when it spoke again.

"Did you truly think that would be enough?"

A whirl of green energy wrapped around the shadow healing the damage they'd managed to inflict. The pair watched the lacerations neatly close up and ooze dissipate from it's dark flesh.

"Tch figures," he hears his partner say as the beast readied itself for a powerful attack.

It happens almost in an instant a trio of impossible eyes warping reality around themselves, it hurt to simply look at. Strange slit pupils are discharging a beam of concentrated energy that feels like it's cutting him in half. He barely registers his partner screams over his own.

**"Now surrender before your savior, accept the happiness he has wrought!"**

"Will you-" his partner takes in a breath, "SHUT...THE...FUCK...UP!" He grins at the angry resolute boy holding his sides despite the pain radiating through his body. "Joker give me a hand!"

His body moves on autopilot, as if all those evenings in November where they fought side by side were only yesterday. He watches in strange fascination as that dangerous red aura swirls around his partner, witnessing the moment he breaks seeing those umber eyes catch fire.

He feels his pupils dilate in some sick Pavlovian response. He rushed forward determined to get a strike in before his partner hacks their opponent to pieces. He ends up having to use his grappling hook to make it there first deciding to use a combination of gymnast and combat training to twist himself down for a single powerful strike before quickly leaping over the oncoming storm narrowly avoiding his berserked partner's saber which ruthlessly slashes into the beasts flesh. He doesn't bother counting the strikes but when his partner finally leaps away he decides to cap off the combined attack with a single shot from his gun with his typical over the top flair. The beast disintegrates in a flash once the bullet hits.

He thinks he hears his partner mumble an insult before turning his head slightly towards him, "I guess that wasn't too terrible for an impormptu performance." The typical back-handed compliment naturally makes him grin wider before remembering Maruki.

"You two really do make quite the pair, I really have to stop underestimating the both of you," the doctor sighs.

"How observant," his partner mocks letting the sarcasm pour from this tongue, "now did you really want to continue this?" he lifts his saber slightly, "I'd rather drop dead than listen to anymore 'negotiations'."

He eyes the doctor's slight wince but says nothing much to focused on the keeping the thrum in his head from overtaking his senses. He just had to hold on, the sensation would eventually dull, he'd get to use it again eventually.

"Why not actually go out and see this new world I've created before deciding?" the doctors turns his gaze to him soft brown eyes hardening, "What about your friends Akira-san? Have you really spoken to them since I was finally able to grant their wishes?"

He doesn't say anything, and even without turning his head he can feel those umber eyes burning a hole into his heart. Still the doctor wasn't necessarily wrong, he'd mostly spent his new-year holiday hanging out with ~~Kasumi~~ Yoshizawa-san or nursing a strange headache before getting dragged into all...this.

"What are going to do with Yoshizawa-san?" his partner speaks instead.

"Keep her here with me, I can't hand her over in this state especially not with the unfortunate circumstances we find ourselves in," he looks down at the girl in his arms with a frown, "She wishes to live in this reality as Kasumi so it seems we are, seemingly, in opposition but please do look at the reality I've created for you perhaps then we can come to an agreement."

"You just expect us to leave just like that? I refuse to be ord-"

"I hate to keep interrupting you Akechi-san," the doctor said without an ounce of remorse on his face, "but there isn't much more you can do, this is happening I'm quite sorry." There was a shift, too fast for it to truly register everything going a bit fuzzy in those awful pinks and greens. Then the strange doctor and girl were gone with only his echoing voice remaining.

_"One week from today, that should give you enough time to see...I really want you to be happy here in this world, I'll see you on the 9th..."_

"He really likes the sound of his own voice, no point chasing him now," his partner growled.

"Reminds me of someone," he said low enough to pretend it wasn't suppose to be heard.

"Don't play coy," the older boy glared, "you have some explaining to do when we get outside, let's go."

He tried to not act so much like a dog with a tail between his legs as they made their way out of the palace. They tried to be stealthy at first before realizing the lab-coat wearing shadows wouldn't even attack them just eye them wearily, as much as something could without visible eyes.

He wanted to ask Akechi, once they had reached the entrance, to wait a moment before he pulled out his phone to return them to "reality" so he could steel himself. Instead he was once again forced to endure the onslaught of those nauseating colors. He couldn't help but clutch his head for a moment, as he tried to center himself.

What was that mental exercise Maruki had taught him? _Shit don't think about him_ his brain griped before being met with a wave of different pain as the unsegmented and freshly released personalities in his brain all expressed, if not so much in words than more in vague feelings, their various flavors of displeasure.

As usual he found himself reaching out to the healing persona he had on hand, and mentally sighed in relief when he felt Ishtar instead of Cybele. Not that he necessarily disliked Cybele, but he found himself a tad more disconnected to the "Mother Godess" whether that had to do with the person her arcana was associated with or something else entirely he didn't care to know.

Ishtar with her long blond hair reminded him of Ann serendipitously enough, her presence always felt warm like the gentle heat from the fall afternoon sun. They were both so strong, so passionate and full of life, maybe a bit too much on occasion if he was ever completely honest. Yet when he saw Ann looking down at Shiho lying in her hospital bed after she had woken up that's when it had finally clicked why she was associated with the Lovers arcana. Another memory burst up from his subconscious before he could pull it back down into the metaphysical swamp that hand become his mindscape.

_"I guess...I'm alone again, huh?"_

_He looked up at her from the edges of his glasses, still hunched in his usual awful posture. She looked small and vulnerable, decidedly unlike Ann he thought. He contemplated on he should say and about what he could. She needed someone but he could see the line he wouldn't cross. He wasn't that cruel._

_"You have us," he said finally which seemed like a good compromise from the options swirling in his head. One of which was to tell her to go after that girl and hug her and never let her go, but that wouldn't be useful, wouldn't be what ~~he~~ they needed._

"You're doing it again, or hmmm were you honestly just spacing out this time?"

That voice snapped him out his current trance. He looked up to see burning umber eyes and manage to repress a shudder before his partner cast his gaze downwards.

"You know it's almost funny, all that time investigating your contacts in a bid to set you up, and the one I had figured for a non-entity, just a washed up researcher wasting away listening to high-schoolers prattle on about their problems just so Shujin Academy could save face," he shook his head slightly and sighed, "would be the one behind this absurd situation. He never seemed like a threat at all and now here he is ranting about saving humanity and making dreams come true."

"He has that effect," he mused idily. Which seemed to be the wrong response because those eyes were back on him trying to burn a hole straight through him, as if they hadn't already done so repeatedly.

"Then why were you helping him?"

"He asked me to help him with some research in return from some mental training techniques, which came in very useful I might add, especially during my overnight stay with Tokyo's finest," he retorted with nothing with a sharp but subtle grin on his face. He was a little surprised by his partner's momentary wince, feeling much more comforted by the furrowed brow that soon adorned his face.

"So that's it, you spilled everything about your little band and your methods to someone who taught you some breathing exercises?"

"I never said anything about them, or the Metaverse at that time, he apparently knew for quite some time, before even starting at Shujin officially. He apparently saw us leaving the Metaverse back in April after Ann's awakening..." he almost chuckled. They had been so naïve and careless then.

"So what he blackmailed you?"

"Not quite," he eyes his partner again with a smirk, "he bought me lunch actually, took me a fancy buffet once too."

"And here I thought you were above bribery..."

"He said he wanted to pay me back for all my help, and I didn't say anything...I think even then I knew he really was getting the better part of our deal but I didn't really suspect him not _then_ anyway."

"Then when?"

"You know how mentioned I was...seeing someone about my...spacing out?"

"For fuck's sake," his partner sighed.

"Well to be honest it wasn't entirely by choice, to make a long story short I had gotten myself in a situation and he helped me out so we ended up making another deal..."

"And?"

"I really think what I talk about with my therapist is a rather private matter."

"Kurusu," his partner ground out, his voice like crushing metal. A small lance of pain shot up emanating from the base of his neck.

_Well that was a new one, wasn't it Kurusu?_

"Oh but it gets worse Akechi," funneling his pain into irritation. "I'm fairly certain that dear Maruki-san was counseling the entirety of the Phantom Thieves."

"Hmm" his partner drew a pensive look either deflecting or outright ignoring his subtle provocation, "well most of you are Shujin students but to think he got his claws into Sakura-san and Kitagawa-san too..."

"You really don't understand him at all do you..."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"That's not how he works, but then you said you don't understand me either so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Do you really want to compare yourself to Maruki right now?"

"We need to save Yoshizawa-san," he said plainly, not bothering to hide his desire to change topics.

"Tch," his partner narrowed his eyes and there was still a part of him that wanted to smile at the older boy's irritation. This boy who was once, or perhaps still was, his rival. "That'd be really foolish to do so now, we need intel especially since as _usual_ you don't seem to be forth coming," his partner said mostly level with surprisingly only a small amount of irritation.

Akira could feel something awful knot in his stomach, was it guilt? Something else? He wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

"Like I said before I do have some investigative skills, since it seems we'll have to play along with Maruki's little game for now," he sneered before going on, "I'll look into a few things..."

"Do you-"

"When you feel like being actually helpful I might consider it," he cut him off since it was obvious what he was going to say and what the pseudo-detective was getting at, "although I wonder, despite everything, if you might actually choose to live in his little dream he's cooked up for you and your friends," he quipped while turning away. "I'll call you if I turn up anything useful," he said as an aside before walking off.

_**Manque ton inspecteur mon petit voleur?** _

He pushed Arsène down back into the little corner he belonged and glanced back at the palace shimmering in and out of "reality". His head swirled thinking about what had transpired in the place, in Maruki's palace. He got the distinct impression he had forgotten something exceptionally important.

 _God your so stupid Kurusu_.

He couldn't help but agree given their current predicament. All that time spent with the doctor and he never expected something quite like this. Even with his research and the strange feeling that the doctor had some sort of untapped potential he really shouldn't have been able to orchestrate such a grand feat. For the first time he had underestimated someone else rather the other way around. The realization sat bitterly, his head throbbed again.

He made his way back to Leblanc desperately trying to hold on while on the train home. Yet the more he tried not to think about the counselor the more his brain pulled at him. Had he really never suspected the doctor until those clandestine visits while he played dead?

_"So I'd say you've mostly been able to reconcile your internal world with your external one," the doctor mused hand on his chin as he sat in worn brown couch in the space he'd set up for himself in the nurses office, "a rather impressive feat I must say seeing as how even most adults struggle with that."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Hmmm you know how people usually have some projection of themselves, a conception of themselves of how they might like to be," he began looking to see if his singular audience was following along, continuing when he noticed Akira's appearing to be rapt at attention, "for example wanting to be a model student or...wanting to be loved and relied on," he paused quickly for a moment to gauge Akira's reaction._

_He seemed pleased at what he saw and continued, "Yet there is often quite the divergence between this imagined ideal and actual reality and such a gap in thinking, cognition if you will, is the cause of a great deal of pain for many people. Not everyone can do well on exams, nor be the heroes that they wish, and that others wish them to be...and yet despite all the suffering you've been through...you still seem able to put on a brave face and confront it, even the painful parts of the reality you find yourself in," he put his arms down seemingly lost in thought just for a moment, "Sorry that must sound a bit strange seeing as how we just met."_

_"I don't think you're wrong, putting on a brave face huh? That's one way of putting it."_

_"Well it is a turn of phrase, but I wonder just how true that is for you," that pensive look was back before being replaced by a more anxious one, "Sorry, I uh just meant it must be tough with your record leaking and all," he blurted._

_"You said something about being able to reconcile of how I'd like to be and how I am?"_

_"Uhh, sort of...why do you ask anyway?"_

_"I just don't know it its really such an admirable feat, if you really can conceive yourself to be anything and were able to, umm externalize it? How do you know who you were to begin with?"_

_"Hmmm that is an excellent question Kurusu-san, I suppose-" he paused when he glanced at the clock and frowned, "Sorry this went a little longer than I expected," he looked down seeming to be lost in thought for a moment, "guess this conversation went a little off the rails."_

_He seemed to manage a small smile before furrowing his brows just slightly, "Although that does make me wonder if there's something you might be able to help me with, it might even answer your question even if that isn't really the focus of my research to be fair..."_

_"Research?" Akira couldn't help but ask and he watched a seemingly benign smile stretch across the doctor's face._

He left the station and began his short walk back to Leblanc as the evening sun began to alight the quaint alleyways of Yogen-Jaya. He kept thinking about the unostentatious counselor who he originally thought was interested in his help for his unique observations, rather than his ties to the very world said doctor had been researching for years. As he went past a newspaper-reading Sojiro who barely humbled a greeting as he made his way upstairs he thought that he was truly , academic scores be damned, a complete idiot.

 _Amen, Kurusu_ that damnable voice chimed in. Before he could have another unwarranted internal debate Akira's eyes fixed themselves on the figure sitting on the worn slowly discoloring couch.

"Welcome home," the figure, _Morgana_ his brain corrected him, greeted before following up, "you stayed out late."

Akira blinked at him but didn't cock his head despite his confusion. This was coming from the person who sometimes accompanied him to the red-light district and stalked it's alleys while Akira entertained customers at Crossroads, and who had personally caught him coming back from one of his late-night Mementos escapades.

His current train of thought was interrupted by his phone's incessant chirping, he still hadn't ever bothered to change the default ring tone since buying himself the phone right before being shipped off to Tokyo. It had been part of the reason he had shown up to Sojiro's place close to broke, having been entirely cut off from his parents who'd confiscated his old phone the moment it'd been returned when he was finally released after his arrest. He had gotten the implication quite clearly when they never returned it, " _Don't call here_ ".

Nobody really called him much anyway, even now most of his friends and connections communicated through text. He was surprised for a variety of reasons when he saw the name he'd saved Akechi under. He imagined the deliciously angry frown his partner would throw at it him if ever revealed he went for the arguably low-hanging fruit of saving his number under the name "Kechi".

"It's me," he said in lieu of a proper greeting as if caller id hadn't been a thing longer than either of them had been alive, "I just figured I should tell you this right away since you seem so concerned about Yoshizawa-san," he said evenly but it still made Akira need to stifle a small grumble. "I called her house just to see what I might learn and it turns out her parents believe she's at training camp, since yesterday," he seemed to huff sounding like he moved his mouth slightly away from the receiver, "Maruki's manipulating reality as he see's fit, it's..." he trailed off uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"Scary? Unbelievable? Seemingly impossible?" he answered him with obvious but pertinent responses.

"Impossible? I suppose you would know..." the line on Akechi's end grew quiet for a moment before he burst back in with, "To think even the illustrious Phantom Thieves became enthralled by him." At his Akira did audibly grumble, his partner continued either because of or despite of Akira's lamenting, "Do you plan on snapping them out of it then? I suppose the extra manpower might come in handy, if-"

"Half the team are girls you know," he interrupted mostly just to piss off Akechi.

"It was a figure of speech you-" he stopped himself and Akira imagined how slanted those little eyebrows were on his partner's face, "We'll see if you manage to shatter their little dreams," he said a little harshly before softening just a fraction, "I imagine it might be difficult..."

"For who?" he blurted out a little annoyed by his partner's somewhat violent allusions in reference to helping his team.

To be fair he had rather intentionally poked the proverbial bear, endlessly amused at how unglued he could make the normally composed C-list celebrity, well ex-celebrity? He hadn't actually thought much about how Akechi was suppose to fit into this reality now. At any rate Akira seemed to still have a knack for pissing him off, Akechi really did hate his guts didn't he?

"Hmmm, I need to get back to my investigation," he paused for a moment, "good luck." The line went dead and Akira let loose a small sigh not even angry that Akechi hadn't bothered to answer his half-formed question.

"So that was Akechi right?" Morgana asked, who seemed to retain the ability to read the subtle lines of irritation woven into amusement that Akechi and only Akechi seemed to wring out of him. "You two hitting it off?" he asked with a small amount of teasing in his voice.

Akira wasn't sure what phone call he was listening in on since even from his sparse responses one could piece together that it wasn't really a pleasant conversation. He wasn't sure what to make of Morgana's subtle, or perhaps not so subtle, implication.

Was this really the same person, human body now or no, that had so many times advised him to be careful around his "most dangerous confidant"? Morgana had been surprisingly prescient in more ways that one with that moniker even if he had been saying it mostly for dramatic effect when Akira had decided to respond to Akechi's very first invitation to Penguin Sniper.

"Hey so I was wondering, since you and Akechi...." Morgana paused for a moment seeming to chew on his the thought, "well maybe we should invite all the Phantom Thieves! Akechi too of course, if uhh..."

"To...?" Akira asked ultimately perplexed by this strange train of thought Morgana had embarked upon.

"Hot springs! Wouldn't that be great, then maybe I can finally ask Lady Ann..."

Akira internally groaned having thought they were past all of this useless pining. Not that he hadn't felt for his friend, a little anyway. It was after all hard to hold his occasionally cringeworthy language _too_ against him since he was so absolutely invested into portraying the image of a "gentleman thief". Akira had thought more than once it had been his way of compensating for his...condition. However this current rebirth of his obsession was a little grating, he had never pitied Morgana or any of the Thieves, he respected them to much for that, but this was...

"So, what do you think, great idea? Wanna bring it up in the group chat?"

Before Akira could formulate some response to his roommate's arduous questions he remembered Maruki's words from earlier. Is this really what Morgana had wished for? It wasn't as if Maruki had ever officially met Morgana outside of the one time Maruki had caught Akira unloading Morgana outside in the courtyard before heading off to see the counselor himself. He had half-joked that Morgana was his unlicensed emotional support animal and would be extremely grateful if the good doctor could pretend he hadn't seen anything. He remembered how the therapist had smiled and simply said _"Huh what are you talking about Kurusu-san?"_

In hindsight perhaps he should have more thoroughly tested how Maruki reacted around Morgana even if he's still fairly certain Maruki had no accesses to the Metaverse back then. He registers that Morgana was rambling about the bed situation, as if it had just now dawned on him he was near adult-sized. Akira supposed it probably had, and felt a twinge of guilt when he mentioned sleeping on the somewhat small couch.

"Morgana...are you happy?" he asked with not much of his usual tact, Akira supposed he could blame it on today's events and mostly on one obstinate brunette in particular.

"I mean the couch isn't the comfiest, I mean we could get one those roll-up futons although..."

"You use to be pretty comfy on the bed," he said deciding to roll with the conversation.

"Well yeah but now that'd be weird cause..."

"Why wasn't it weird before?"

"Well cause I-" he stopped, frowned then shook his head.

Akira wondered how far he should press him, seeing as he had the whole week, but there was a small part of him that felt angry. He felt a little like a hypocrite but it wasn't as if had completely bought into Maruki's reality. Morgana was already practically his brother, it shouldn't matter if he had a human body or not, he'd promised to stick by no matt-

_Being selfish again aren't we?_

He wasn't sure which part of his brain that thought originated from but it nevertheless was only a prelude to a deluge of intrusive thoughts bursting from his broken dam of a brain. Then his migraine returned which drowned out all the other voices in a different kind of pain.

He didn't turn down his newly un-furried roommate when he mentioned turning in early, nor responded when he then mumbled going for a walk. He climbed into bed while he watched him leave. If his head wasn't hurting so much he might have found the ironic reversal rather funny.

Once Morgana was gone he lazily shuffled out of his clothes and left them on a pile near the mattress, quickly deciding that now that he was no longer sharing his bed sleeping in just boxers would be fine. The more rational part of his brain was trying to remind him that not only did he still live above a cafe in a storage space with no door it was currently winter. His last thoughts as he drifted into blissful unconsciousness, away from throbbing in his head, was if Morgana had turned the heater on.

When he awoke his first sensation was not cold, not to say he was warm per say but the heavy duvet he had been using since winter's chill had creeped in was doing it's best. It was more of an utter lack of sensation, akin to numbness. Yet numbness required the memory of sensation, exposed by the contrast between feeling and unfeeling. This was absolute, where any recollection of nerve endings once firing had been chased away, leaving nothing but unceasing hollowness as if something had long ago scooped out his chest and removed his spine.

He closed his eyes for a second, a minute, a hour, time seemed like a loose concept but when he finally snapped them open again he quickly sat up. He reflexively clutched the duvet around him now that coldness had finally seeped into his bones. His head swiveled around for Morgana before remembering that given his current size it wouldn't be possible for him to hide anywhere, not that he really did before. Had Morgana even come home?

Akira didn't really like being on the other end of this, having a painful reminder of the time Morgana had run away. It's why he hadn't even defended himself when Morgana had chewed out the reckless trickster's solo night-time escapades. He'd still managed although he did stroll around the collective unconscious much less after that usually going only on nights Morgana spent with Haru or occasionally Futaba. Sometimes he'd head down to the red-light district instead although whether that was objectively safer was questionable. He'd been quite aware of the obvious look of caution his roommate gave him whenever Morgana mentioned he'd been staying elsewhere for the night.

His brain took the opportunity to remind him the comment Morgana had off-handedly said, _"You can't be any use to me if you get yourself killed!"_ It had been earlier in their relationship, and another part of his brain tried to remind him Morgana had likely putting on a front even then. Somehow being mired in concepts of stoic masculinity perhaps because of rather than despite not having a human body. Still it wasn't as if what he had said had been wrong and it tracked with his eventual confession that he did _initially_ see Akira and the rest of the Thieves as just a means to an end. That was in the past now, Morgana was his...his...

 _Oh there it was_ he thought, the pain that seemed to now live in his head.

He grabbed his phone from his charger near the bed and looked it over and was surprised to see not a single overnight notification from Futaba or Ryuji or even a early morning one from Makoto or Haru. He struggled to remember the last he woke up this late and didn't already have a few unread notifications even if it was just someone asking for a favor.

He wasn't sure what to feel as he stared at his blank phone. He decided to clamber over to the box with this clothes taking the duvet with him. He cursed his past-self's lack of foresight and recognition that the bed and the area he kept his clothes were on near opposite ends of the room.

He managed some sort of outfit from the sparse collection of clothes his parents had bothered to send him which had, over his time in Tokyo, increased a little mostly due to shopping trips with Ann. He eyed the scarf she had foisted on him when he had casually mentioned not really having any winter clothes, he wasn't sure if it went with his greyish long coat. Said coat had cost him a pretty penny but he remembered, even if he'd probably never tell another soul, the burst of frankly puerile joy when Morgana had mentioned it reminded him a little of Akira's Metaverse outfit and had uttered the words "Lookin' cool Joker".

He made a heavy sigh hoisting the heavy duvet back onto the bed before noticing that the heater, thrumming along near the center of the room, was dangerously low on fuel. He realized he never asked Sojiro to refill it before, he would just come home sometimes and notice it had been topped off. He turned it off and headed downstairs. Sojiro mumbled something, but didn't look up from his newspaper. It wasn't as if the two shared many words unless it was about coffee or the making thereof. He mentioned going out, and received an affirmative huff, he didn't ask about the heater.

He stumbled his way across familiar streets and subways, not that he didn't still feel occasional unease navigating the Tokyo Metro. Of course this was now accompanied by occasional ripples that seemed all the more noticeable now that he was aware he was in a fabricated reality stitched together by this therapist. What did it say about him that a realm made of happiness only served to give him a headache?

He found himself at Shibuya station aimlessly wandering the underground. He felt reality shift just for a moment, once again in those detestable pinks and greens, he was really going to despite spring patterns from now on wasn't he? The thought of Mementos still being around struck him as he ambled his way to the underground mall. Perhaps that's why he felt drawn here or perhaps this was just a transit hub that made it convenient to track down his friends who, at least according to Maruki, were already enjoying this reality. That being said this was a sprawling metropolis with more than thirteen million people, on the other hand his friends did have their usual haunts and nothing was stopping him from just texting them.

Still there was a feeling, an ugly feeling simmering in his gut. Perhaps it had started last night when he was questioning Morgana? He tried to push it aside and keep going. He turned a corner down an all-too familiar hall of shops. He felt Ishtar thrum in his head and like magic he saw a pair of blonde pigtails like a beacon amongst all the black and brown heads adorned with various wintertime coverings.

He'd hadn't been shocked when he had learned Ann was a part-time model, although with her current stylish leather jacket and eye-catching red boots it was a little more obvious. He still remembered his somewhat embarrassing reaction when he first saw her under that awning trying to avoid the rain. His awkward gaping might have been related to the fact that his country bumpkin ass couldn't remember ever seeing a "hāfu" before, not that he _ever_ wanted to admit that cringeworthy thought. He really didn't miss that version of Akira in the slightest. There had also been the minor issue of barely using his vocal chords since being released from detention the first time having quickly come to conclusion that his words were meaningless until the past year taught him quite the opposite, at least when he knew how to bend and shape them for other's ears. 

He could see her talking with someone but he couldn't get a good look at this angle. It sounded like they were talking about volleyball, it was a bit hard to make out over din of the shoppers, which would be a little surprising not only given Ann's personal history but the fact Shujin's volleyball team had been mostly limping along after the whole Kamoshida incident.

"Oi Akira!" she shouted, which prompted him to walk up to them rather than keep his distance. She immediately started gabbing about what a coincidence meeting up like this was. Her voice fell away however as he tried to hide his shock at seeing Suzui Shiho staring up at him. "Oh yeah it's been awhile since you saw Shiho huh?"

"Hello Kurusu-kun, I don't suppose you remember me?"

"Suzui Shiho," he said plainly as he could.

"Oh wow you remembered me?" she asked aloud clutching her arm through her slightly oversized blue jacket.

How could he forget the first person, besides Ryuji who had the benefit/misfortune of being thrown into life and death situation with him, who treated him like a human being? There was softness to her he hadn't seen when she left just a few-

"We barely talked before I transferred to another school early in the semester."

"Oh c'mon of course he remembers," Ann giggled lightly, the smile he seen on his way over still etched on her face, "how could he forget with all my bragging about my all-star volleyball BFF?"

"Ann," Suzui's cheeks grew just a tiny bit pink, "Sorry you have to put up with that Kurusu-kun."

"Nonsense," she said before finally taking her eyes of her friend and turning to him, "Shiho was the MVP at the big meet the other day too."

_Ah there it is._

He listened to Ann continue to gush about Suzui's apparent volleyball dominance while said "all-star" remained exceptionally humble. The girls seemed lost in their own world for a moment before Ann finally turned back to him.

"Oh did I mention Shiho transferring back to Shujin!"

"It is the top school when it comes to volleyball afterall," Suzui commented matter-of-factly, "that's the reason I was able to finally convince my parents to transfer me back."

Alarm bells started to go off in Akira's brain. Of course it wasn't enough have Suzui able to play again, in order for her to be happy AND coming back to Shujin that could only mean one thing.

"Everything's going to be perfect!" Ann almost squealed.

Akira supposed a reality where Kamoshida either didn't exist or wasn't a perverted monster would be perfect for them. Perfect for Ann who had still missed her childhood friend even if she had been her whole reason for becoming strong, for even becoming a Phantom Thief.

Something foul twisted inside him. He thought back to yesterday when Akechi had mentioned something about the Phantom Thieves being nothing more than an urban legend. He'd heard theories that ranged from the "Phantom Thieves of Hearts" being some sort of prank all the way to being a government conspiracy. He'd even once heard during the height of their fame, while genuinely admiring the design of the maid's outfits in a café in Akihabara, some obviously bored young men postulate that the entire thing was actually an elaborate publicity stunt for some new idol group. All those theories were predicated on the fact that the Phantom Thieves existed in _some_ form until the God of Control's meddling made them forget. He couldn't be sure if this was some belated fallout from all that, seeing as the general public did not seem to remember the world almost ending on Christmas Eve, or if this was indeed the result of Maruki's new meddling. He needed more evidence.

"Are you happy? Is this really everything you wished for?" he asked her at last as she looked on at Suzui while the dark-haired girl eyed some coats on sale.

He wondered what she had discussed with Maruki, about how much he really knew about Ann and about the others. Then again what did Akira really know? He suddenly realized that he had never asked her that question before. Had he ever asked any one of them that before he'd blindly asked Morgana last night? Was he scared of their answers?

"W-what? Well I-" she stumbled and for the first time since he saw across the shopping hall her smile disappeared from her face. The fact that it didn't hurt, that the flicker of sadness in her eyes made him feel something akin to hopeful, is what actually made his stomach clench. "-yeah you could say that," she recovered.

"So this how you wanted things to be? With-" he stopped himself flickering his gaze to Suzui who was eyeing a different rack of clothes now.

"How I..." she started to respond before she too glanced at her friend. "O-of course I mean both you and Shiho are here why would I want to..." a troubled expression darkened her face and his stomach lurched at the creeping sense of accomplishment he felt.

"Ann-"

"Ann, you okay?" Suzui unintentionally interrupted having just swiveled around to see the expression on her best friend's face.

"Yeah, fine! Just uh...tired I guess? Let's sit for a big and recharge yeah?" she quickly retorted to assuage her friend while giving her a weak smile. She looked back at him for a moment, "Ah sorry, we'll um...I'll talk to you later..." she said in a hurried tone before quickly dropping her gaze as if she couldn't bear to look at him.

He watched her walk away arm and arm with her "BFF" and that dark feeling from before flared within him.

 _Rather pathetic huh Kurusu?_ he heard that voice call, he didn't bother answering it.

He doesn't know how long he spends wandering the Tokyo underground, eventually leaving the mall, watching people until they start to resemble dolls with no remarkable features except for their cavernous smiles. He doesn't try to listen to their conversations but finds a few snippets invading his ears anyway.

_"Hey that girl from you mentioned from your hometown is...What do you mean what girl!?"_

_"Yeah my husband finally called back and said he'd be on the first train home..."_

He tries to get away from the empty eyes and words, shuffling along the fluorescent lights and wafting bouquet of industrial strength cleaner trying to brow beat the stench of humanity from clinging to the walls. It's starting to make him long for Mementos, and he starts to thumb his phone over his pocket. He's never slipped into it while already underground, wary of how unlike other cognitive spaces Mementos wasn't remotely mapped around the Tokyo underground in the way other palaces are, although even that thin logic didn't always hold either.

He silently debated the odds of being shifted into one of those fleshy walls. He was about to take his phone out and duck to a corner, not that he thought anyone would notice him anyway, when he spotted two heads adorned with familiar shades of brown and silver hair respectively. He slunk over to them, each uncharacteristically oblivious to their surroundings. They each regarded him almost robotically saying practically the same thing, and while watching Sae's gaze pass through him didn't hurt too much having Makoto do the same made him feel hollowed out in a whole different way. Even so she seemed a bit warmer than her sister, but then that had always been the case. She mentioned something about shopping and her dad.

"-he's receiving the superintendent general ward!"

"Really?" he said mechanically.

"Now Makoto, there's no need to shout," her sister chimed in and for a moment he could feel the shades of the old Niijima-san and if it made skin crawl just a little that was no one's business but him. "Besides," and just like that her expression changed to an unfamiliar smile, "Dad wanted us to treat it like no big deal remember?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just excited. After all this time he's finally getting the recognition he deserves."

They continued talking for a bit engaging in a sisterly banter he's never heard from either them. She barely looked in his direction. Gone were tiny half smiles she sometimes gave him when she pushed her hair back, that were still occasionally accompanied by small glints in her eyes even after he carefully sidestepped his way out of an actual relationship with her. He briefly wondered why no one ever outright asked him or confessed, it was always up to him to take, or rather _not take_ , the plunge. Although he supposed Haru had been pretty obvious now that he thought about-

"-to join us for dinner? Oh but I don't know what we're having yet..." she paused perhaps using her brain power to run over scenarios, thinking of what each of them liked in order to come up with a dinner that would be satisfactory. For a brief moment he thought he could see the analytical Makoto from before that had made such a good team strategist. He was about to open his mouth when her sister once more butt in.

"Don't you think he probably has plans already?" she said before softening again with a smile he'd never seen, "Still look at you, so outgoing, wonder where this is coming from huh?"

"Um," he heard Makoto blurt as if she was just as floored to hear Niijima Sae actually tease her own sister "T-that's not..." she started to say as a faint blush dusted her cheeks.

"So you're happy enjoying time with the family then?" he decided to ask partly to divert the topic, not necessarily enjoying being once more mentally paired up with Makoto.

He supposed it made sense on a superficial level each of them regarded as the "smart ones" even if Futaba had her own frightening intelligence. He would outwardly admit Kurusu Akira seemed to be the more bookish kind of smart that Makoto styled herself as and he would concede, only to himself, that she often reminded him of the boy he'd been before he'd come to Tokyo well what little he could remember at this point.

He wondered if that's why he had felt a slight pull towards her before killing those feelings off in their infancy. Still to anyone who knew him as Joker, they should know he was quite often a literal "shoot first ask questions later" guy that would have butted heads with her a few times if he hadn't bit his tongue in the name of "team unity".

"Well isn't that what this time of year is for?"

"Getting along with your sister then?" he said instead of answering, noticing the older Niijima's interested tilt of her head. He was more unnerved than relieved that Sae seemed to find the idea of them together worth teasing rather than giving him a piercing glare like the one he had received when he implied he went on a stakeout, it was _not_ a date, with someone who _might_ have been Makoto when he had been forced to recount the rather abridged version his life as a Phantom Thief.

"Of course, she's busy sometimes but she always...I mean without her I'd be...Wait that doesn't make any sense," she rambled.

"Makoto?"

"Think it through," he implored, now being the one to butt in almost talking over Sae.

"I-" the younger Niijima blinked before wincing just for a moment, releasing a small gasp.

"Makoto," her sister prodded again a little more forcefully, "are you ok?"

"Oh, my apologies, it's nothing," she said her voice quavering only a little while turning her body towards her sister before shifting her head slightly back to him yet assuredly refusing to look him in the eye. "Oh sorry we still have a lot of shopping to do, so please excuse us," she said channeling Niijima-san for a moment and then walked off without another word.

"Sorry about that," the real older Niijima said in a bizarre reversal of roles of apologizing for her sister rather than the other way around. "I'm sure we'll talk again soon," she insisted before following her sister.

He didn't return home that night until after dark with bruised knuckles and a litany of phantom contusions that sung across his skin. He traipsed up the steps eyeing the cold empty room, he'd barely tugged off his clothes before collapsing on the mattress. He was still cognizant enough to notice of the sound of cracking plastic but chose to ignore it in favor of wrapping himself up in the duvet. He thumbed over the word "Kechi" on his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kechi - "stingy" (yeah it's a bad pun)  
> "Manque ton inspecteur mon petit voleur?"- "Missing your inspector my little thief?" (guess who Arsène is referencing)
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading <3\. And also yeah that one commenter on the last chapter you were right, be prepared for more devilry in the future.


	9. What Am I Good For if Not For This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi tries to uncover answers but keeps ending up with more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it took me way longer than I would have liked to go through the current chapters and edit them so they flowed better, and of course fixed more than few mistakes. I do proof read my work but it's only me and my bleary little eyes. 
> 
> Anyway I don't want to promise to have a consistent update schedule so I'll just say that I am still writing this and plan to finish this. 
> 
> For now please enjoy this one, for some reason I had a really hard time with it. I know there isn't much to go off of for Akechi's time in Maruki's reality and I found it hard to write how he might interact with it. So this is one is a little shorter than I would like but I figured I honestly just needed to get past this point so I could move on with the story.

Goro walked as fast as he could without arousing suspicion. He needed to get away from Kurusu before he did something stupid, he didn't really want to think about what that something was. Although given his current mood it might be something respectable like smashing the foolish thief's face into the pavement.

He tried to calm himself on the ride back to his apartment. He reasoned that while he had every right to be upset, the seething rage he managed to keep locked up as he gripped onto the bars of the packed train would not serve him here. He wasn't exactly sure why he was so angry at Kurusu since it seemed that whatever manipulative influence Maruki had worked on Yoshizawa-san he had tried on Kurusu as well. He supposed it was partly the implication that Kurusu seemed to know _something_ had been up with Maruki to the point he had apparently asked him if he done something to Yoshizawa-san just not exactly what that thing was. Kurusu had however seemed genuinely surprised by the magnitude of the doctor's power.

There was too many unknows still nagging at him. So many unexplained variables the biggest of which the exact nature of Maruki and Kurusu's relationship. Why exactly why he seeing a therapist he didn't even seem to trust? Kurusu had hinted it wasn't entirely voluntary. He also said Maruki hadn't blackmailed him but had that changed? What was the situation he'd been put in that he ended up turning to Maruki of all people for help? How could his rival...he quickly abandoned that line of thinking.

Goro head throbbed as if to tell him this wasn't going anywhere. By the time he finally arrived back at his apartment he had a budding migraine. He quickly dressed himself down and fished out some pills from his burgeoning medicine cabinet which was still filled with all types of dollar store creams but lacked the "special" prescriptions from Shido's own doctors. He settled for some over the counter pain pills and downed them with a glass of water. He set an alarm for a half an hour and let his eyes shut close.

Only for them to open in what felt like only moments later listening to the shrill of his alarm. He pinched his nose and sat up from his the kotatsu he'd bought with almost the exclusive purpose to take naps under. He breathed in through his nose and out his mouth while sitting up and instinctively reaching for his phone. He was surprised to see a message there inquiring if he could come into work tomorrow. He shook his head in disbelief silently wishing he had and actual chat with Maruki if for not other reason than having a slightly less unpleasant version of reality to temporarily inhabit. Although seeing as it was just the one message and not several, ranging from requests involving various publicity engagements to demands blanketed with thinly veiled threats hailing from Shido, one might see it as an improvement.

There was a time he had basked in that attention even through all the stress headaches and mornings applying makeup to the dark circles under his eyes. He'd even enjoyed all of Shido's harsh scrutiny and ire since he'd felt so confident about his plan to fell the rottne beast. Looking back on it now he felt...hollow. He wasn't dumb enough to think all those fangirls, and more than a few fanboys really cared about him. Still it had been better than nothing, the polite acquaintanceship with classmates, the fan letters he didn't even bother to open anymore, the rare begrudging acknowledgement from Shido.

His stomach twisted and he decided to get up for a glass of water. It was hard to separate the Detective Prince from his work for Shido despite each persona he'd adopted being almost total opposites personality wise. He was the Detective Prince because of "Black Mask", he was the "Black Mask" because of the Detective Prince. Obviously he'd never been called that silly name by any of The Conspiracy. There was a handful who knew who he was but most simply referred to him as "Shido's boy" which he supposed had a certain kind of irony.

A thought suddenly occurred to him was he even the Detective Prince anymore? He seemed to be working for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police in some capacity still but as what?

A thousand more questions threatened to spill over into his head but he managed to beat them back by occupying himself by turning on his laptop and opening up a new case file, numbing his brain with the monotonous task of organizing it into sections. He started with the obvious, Maruki. He had to fill in what he could from memory since his original file on Maruki was suspiciously absent. Looking through some old files on his laptop did point to him still being a detective, most seemed be notes related larceny and burglary though there was at least one that looked related to a kidnapping.

He knew it was through Shido's influence via the Special Investigation Unit director that he had been assigned over to the SIU and attached to higher-profile cases like the various psychotic breakdowns he'd caused and then naturally the mental shutdowns case. Had any of that happened now? He hadn't been able to find much on Shido other than the mentions of an impending trial which seemed to be an open and shut case of election tampering and a conspiracy to overthrow the government with very little detail on co-conspirators. He supposed if he was still employed by the TMPD he might be able to access the case files on Shido and be able to answer some questions.

In the mean time he made another section seeing as the file titled "Kurusu Akira" along with the short addendums on the other PT's since again the original files were absent which lent some credence to the theory that the Phantom Thieves didn't technically exist in this reality. There was also the possibility that because there might have never being any mental shutdowns of psychotic breaks to begin with the police had never bothered to allocate resources on what was believed to be just an "urban legend". He made a note to check through the dates of various new publications from last year correlating his own assignments as well as the Thieves' activity.

Right now he needed to finish outlining the scope of his investigation, he decided to make a section for himself since he was curious how Maruki had managed to devise a "ideal" reality for him when Maruki himself admitted he didn't know much about him. He left in blank for now seeing at he next to no information on who Akechi Goro was in this reality, he'd doubt he would even recognize him if what Maruki said was true about erasing suffering. He shook his head and decided to add once more section for now.

The words "Yoshizawa Sumire" now stared back at him. He filled in what he could, he never bothered to know her or even her more outgoing sister. He had treated them like children exchanging pleasantries before talking business with their father. He'd felt a certain perverse satisfaction, watching them look on at their father hanging on his every word. In hindsight he must of looked ridiculous a child desperately trying to play the adult, even if the elder Yoshizawa didn't seem totally immune to his charms. Yet he was through and through a family man who occasionally brought up his wife, boring but tolerable for a TV host anyway. He was one of very few adults he'd never once daydreamed about crushing under Loki's claws. Did Yoshizawa-san parents even know what had happened to her?

He still seemed to have his number on his phone, so that made things easier. He held the phone to his ear and waited.

"Hello who is this?"

"Good evening, Yoshizawa-san this is Akechi Goro," he paused deliberately before adding, "I believe we might have met before?" he asked sliding on the same old mask that always got women and even men cooing.

"Oh Akechi-kun, yes we had the spotlight interview several months ago, it's been awhile," he chuckled lightly.

 _No it hasn't_ he thought to himself seeing he had briefly spoken to him about a month ago before yet another interview.

"To what do I the pleasure?" he tacked laying in on a little thick as if to subtly hint for Akechi to get to the point while still being polite, it was a game he was markedly familiar with.

"Actually I was wondering if I could speak to your daughter?" he asked in the lightest possible voice and then on a gamble he decided to add "Sumire-san?"

The other line was a quiet for a tense few seconds before the older man broke in with "I didn't realize you two had become so close," he needled dropping the earlier pleasant pretense.

"Not necessarily," he said carefully, "it just turns out we have a mutual associate, I'm sure you heard of him," he finished explaining, remembering his protective nature towards his daughters which given the circumstances had likely deepened considerably towards his remaining child.

"Ah do you mean Kurusu-kun?" he responded which answered a few questions in and of itself. Of course she talked about him enough that he be the first name that came to mind.

"Yes, we were hoping she'd accompany us to this new café opening in Kichijōji but I haven't been able to get a hold of her..." he let himself trail off letting concern ebb into his voice.

"The both of you?"

"Of course, Kurusu-kun and I promised we'd _both_ take her over the holiday break," he answered to fuel whatever silly love triangle he might of been imagining. Perhaps that might actually be the case in this reality, their rivalry preserved but redirected towards vying for Yoshizawa-san's affections. It was almost funny.

"Well she's been at training camp all this week and will be there till the end of the week until the 9th, didn't she mention it?"

"Ah my mistake, my deepest apologies, well please tell her I wish her the best!" he chirped.

They exchanged quick but cordial goodbyes before he hung up and let the phone drop into his lap.

"Motherfucker," he cursed aloud into the empty apartment around him. He took a moment to center himself before compiling what he had just learned from the short conversation.

He had discovered that Yoshizawa-san father still knew her as Sumire although whether that was because he was not yet fully under Maruki's control or what had happened to her in his palace earlier had rippled out into the reality was unclear. He also had a further point to investigate about himself, since it seemed that this reality's Akechi Goro was popular enough to have at least one TV interview but not enough to warrant the hundreds he'd endured during his stint as the "Detective Prince". Lastly and most importantly Maruki appeared to have the terrifying to rewrite reality at will at any moment. He wondered why then Maruki had even bothered to entertain their little dalliance into his palace at all. He came up with two hypotheses.

The first more hopeful one being that their nature and experiences, not only as persona users but specifically as wildcards, inured them to _some_ manipulation. The second was that this was all careful calculation on Maruki's part. He felt himself scowl. He supposed he should notify Kurusu of this development regarding the doctor. He'd definitely be back at Leblanc by now even if he'd had decided to take his time.

"It's me," he quickly uttered once Kurusu answered, "I just figured I should tell you this right away since you seem so concerned about Yoshizawa-san," he then offered in way of justifying why it was he was calling him already. "I called her house just to see what I might learn and it turns out her parents believe she's at training camp, _since yesterday_ ," he let annoyance cover up any uneasiness that might have leaked into his voice pulling away the phone slightly, "Maruki's manipulating reality as he see's fit, it's..." he had a few choice words for it none of which Kurusu would likely appreciate.

"Scary? Unbelievable? Impossible?" he heard the bastard quickly fill in.

"Impossible? I suppose you would know..." he had wanted that to sound more chastising than it did so he followed up with, "To think even the illustrious Phantom Thieves became enthralled by him." His heart leaped at the annoyed grunt he received in response and continued, "Do you plan on snapping them out of it then? I suppose the extra manpower might come in handy, if-"

"Half the team are girls you know."

"It was a figure of speech you-" he cut himself off not wanting to give the idiot further satisfaction for so effortlessly riling him up. He decided to go for the throat, "We'll see if you manage to shatter their little dreams," the words felt bitter, "I imagine it might be difficult..."

"For who?" he heard the younger boy sputter. He felt only a fraction of the usual satisfaction from eroding the other boy's calm.

"Hmmm, I need to get back to my investigation," he insisted, deliberately ignoring him, before adding surpassingly without any sarcasm, "good luck."

He hung up and stared for just a moment at the phone in his hand. He didn't envy Kurusu's position but he didn't really sympathize with him either. As far as he was concerned the rest of Thieves were weak for falling into Maruki's little delusions. A slightly less vindictive, more logical part of his brain brought up the likely possibility that without their "special" nature they too might have been swept up in the doctor's machinations. He thought of slightly listless fogged over look Kurusu had before he'd shown up at Leblanc.

He toyed with idea that he had "saved" Kurusu from falling into his own little dream before abandoning such a self-aggrandizing narrative, if nothing else his spectacular defeat had made him outgrow such things. Besides Kurusu's behavior at Maruki's palace demonstrated that he wasn't on board with the doctor's plans even if knew more than he was letting on. He'd been a bit surprising actually, now that he thought about it, having never seen him absolutely lose it like he had back at the palace. Not that he had any right to judge of course, compared to Goro's "outburst" back in his father's palace Kurusu's little scene was practically nothing.

Nonetheless it made him all the more curious about his relationship with Maruki. As far as Goro knew he was the only one he ever seemed to get under the thief skin and even than it was usually only very subtle tells, ones that Goro had of course dedicated time and effort to sussing out.

He gritted his teeth at his past self's hasty dismal of the doctor during his investigation of Kurusu. He'd known even then he was someone who had the misfortune of being in Shido's way. By all accounts he'd gotten off rather easy and seemed to be content wasting away at Shujin. Of course he couldn't haven been more wrong, he was aware he worked only part-time at Shujin but hadn't bothered to dig up what else he might have been working on.

In his defense if he spent time comprehensively investigating all the people Shido had wronged he'd barely have time for any other detective work much less school and Shido's special assignments on top of that. Just staying on top of all the people Kurusu seemed to visit had been a job in and of itself that dragged him across Tokyo. Thus he'd been forced to prioritize them by relative importance. Clearly the ex-Yakuza airsoft dealer and the blacklisted back alley doctor had topped the list in their obvious usefulness to a organization like the Phantom Thieves. The disgraced journalist had been pretty high on the list as well and the only reason he even knew that not only did Kurusu somehow land a job at an okama bar but also often stopped by to talk a nearby fortune teller before work.

He sighed bringing his mind back into focus on to the task at hand. He spent about another hour formatting and going over the limited information currently available before getting ready to bed. He apparently had work tomorrow. 

~~~

He shuffled to the bathroom once he'd silenced his screeching alarm, he'd showered the night before as usual and already brushed his teeth since it required the least coordination from his complicated morning routine. He was halfway through applying the last step of seven step skin-care routine when his brain woke all the way up.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

He finished applying moisturizer to his face since he'd already started but didn't bother to carefully brush his hair only running his fingers through it so it didn't look too unkempt. He put started to put on his usual outfit for work until he looked over his coat rack. He eyed the pea coat he often wore at work which doubled as his school uniform. It wasn't the typical uniform, but of course the "Detective Prince" was allowed a special dispensation as long as he kept the patch of the school's crest ironed on his coat. He'd left the trademark coat there ever since he'd been released from the station after questioning. Something lurched in his stomach as he stared at it. He sees his own face staring back at him except it's not his face, had his eyes ever looked so lifeless?

He chucked into the back of his closet and dragged out a different much longer pea coat, slowly realizing that as much of his style was carefully curated to project a certain image and not really based on his actual tastes he might actually have a thing for big buttons. He chews on that trivial thought as he begrudgingly packs his laptop into his briefcase. He makes notes that it no longer is marked with the emblematic "A" on the side. So this reality's Akechi Goro was still pompous enough to get an archaic attaché briefcase but not enough to actually brand it.

He also noticed the pistol that Shido had given him was missing, but it wasn't as if he always carried it with him anyway. He technically hadn't even needed it to fulfill Shido's assignments, especially those that only called for psychotic breakdowns, and Shido knew this. It was of course more about the message, he was nothing more than a tool. He'd always known that deep down and yet...

He tried to distract himself with other thoughts as he made his way over to the station. One of which is whether he's still even assigned to the SIU. He had been reporting from there regularly once he'd been put on the mental shutdowns case but before that he was often bounced around, loaned out to various divisions as needed even if it was often more for PR purposes. He hated running this blind and decided to indulge in a little practical narcissism by looking himself up while riding the train over to Chiyoda.

He found a few references such as an article about the "spotlight" interview the elder Yoshizawa must of been talking about but it pales to the online presence he had before. He decides to skim over it for anything useful but it seems that even in this reality reporters still focus on trivial extraneous details. He scrolls down to the bottom when a link catches his eye, "A Rising Star? High-Schooler Helps Solve Case That Left Local Officers Stumped". He clicks on it sees a younger version of himself staring back at him.

He takes a deep breath and his fingers, encased in a very different much more expensive pair of gloves, tighten onto the overhead pole he's holding onto. He reads it over despite being familiar with every detail, despite having the original newspaper cut out buried somewhere in his apartment. He'd had a mind to pin it up once before thinking better of it. The decision to get involved in breaking up the crime ring that had at the time been terrorizing Nakano had been entirely calculated, a plan to further impress Shido by worming his way into the TMPD and therefore be just that more indispensable. What's more useful than a hitman that closes his own loose ends? He had cracked the case himself though, uncovering how the members were communicating right under the police's noses and thus directly leading to each of their arrests. He had acted humbly when they congratulated him and offered him a special position as a high-school liason after which he'd been contacted for what would be his very first interview.

_"So what made you want to become involved?" a cheery young woman with a notebook in hand. Her phone is on the table recording them once he'd acquiesced to it._

_He takes a little too long to respond, distracted by the device wondering if it would pick up his voice amongst the other noises at they sat outside a cafe, wondering what his "interview voice" might sound like having never heard it outside practicing in front of a mirror. It was quiet enough, a good compromise seeing as he hadn't wanted to do this in his apartment and as she never offered it was likely she didn't have her own office suitable for interview purposes nor would one likely be given to her for such a small story._

_"I just wanted to help my community of course," he explained at last smiling just like prepared a few hours earlier. "Ever since I moved here I've been hearing about stories, theft, extortion and so on."_

_"So you recently moved here then, sorry if I may be so bold," she started smiling with teeth, "but from what I was able to gather you live alone don't you?"_

_"Ah yes I moved to be closer to my chosen high-school, with my guardian's permission of course," answering the question she had obviously implied, covering up his irritation with a wider smile._

_He had expected this of course, had a story lined in case she pressed for more. He had no intention of admitting he was a near penniless orphan that had been put up in the cheapest apartment Shido could find that was still relatively close to the Diet building. Between that and the new phone he'd purchased for him it sent a crystal clear message, "Be prepared to be summoned on a moment's notice."_

_"Oh how studious!" she chittered as he waited for her ask about what he meant by "guardian" instead in what might of been the first time an adult had shown him even a modicum of discretion she simply said, "It must of been scary to move to a new part of town all on your own and get caught up in all this."_

_"I don't know if I'd say that," he commented making sure to awkwardly chuckle and feign nervousness as if to hide the fact he might of actually been scared._

_Which of course couldn't have been further from the truth having already sent several people into various hospitals and one unfortunate soul to an early grave. He subtly bit the inside of his cheek, this really wasn't the time to be thinking about that._

_"Still between your timing and your namesake, Akechi Goro," she enunciated his name " it must be fate!" she crowed. "You do realize you share a name with the famous sleuth from Edogawa Ranpo's detective novels?" she added when he assumed a look of confusion._

_"I had no idea," he lied, "I just wanted to help." The timing was fortuitous he'd admit, not expecting such an opportunity to practically land in his lap so soon, perhaps the only stroke of luck he'd ever received in life so far._

_His name was entirely contrived however, a childish wish adapted to much more sinister ends. Shido hadn't commented, either out of ignorance or indifference, on his choice of name change when it was brought up to fabricate a new identity._

_"Well you did more than that , I'd say you practically solved the case! Please tell us how you were able to uncover how the suspects were able to communicate and plan their operations," she pressed ,a slightly less toothy smile now on her face._

_"Well you see it was really quite simple," he began, ignoring the voice telling him to correct her by stating that he HAD solved the case, "perhaps that's why the police overlooked it," he amended mindful to not sound too cocky already painfully aware of how adults hated being made fools of by those younger than them. "They had the idea of hiding in plain sight, communicating in code..."_

"NOW ARRIVING SAKURADAMON STATION"

He carefully shuffled out of the packed train and began his short trek to the large grey utilitarian building that loomed in the distance. He decided to go to police headquarters first rather the Public Prosecutor's Office working off of his current hypothesis that the psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns hadn't happened and he therefore had never been assigned to the SIU. He made his way inside, took the elevator to the criminal investigation department, signed in, and walked over to his usual workstation without incident only to find someone else sitting there.

"Oh Akechi-kun!" the man in question greeted him with the air of familiarity.

He'd definitely seen this man before, one of the slightly younger looking detectives he worked with on one of the first psychotic breakdown cases before it'd been assigned over the SIU. He wracked his brain as Takeshi? Takeda? looked up at him expectantly.

"Takeuchi-san, have you sent those casefiles over to the SSBC yet?" a portly man with greying hair asked as he stopped near the desk.

"No sir, but I'll be finished with them before the end of today!" Takeuchi replied, before turning back to Goro once the other man had walked off, "I'm glad you were able to come in, how about some coffee before we dig into these casefiles?"

Goro blinks for a moment before his brain kicked back in. Adults usually liked verbal acknowledgement when they spoke to those they perceived as children, doubly so for their subordinates if Goro is reading this situation correctly.

"Right away sir," he replied smoothly in a show of compliance.

"Ah c'mon I keep telling you to drop the 'sir' nonsense, I'm not technically your superior anymore anyway."

"My apologies Takeuchi-san," he ventured in the professional tone he usually applied while at work and went off to do something he hadn't in quite some time.

The coffee machine was in the same place as always, he'd previously submitted to the inferior brew for morning briefings. That was before being shipped off across the street to the SIU's marginally better coffee machine which sufficed until he'd been spoiled by Leblanc coffee. He began the mind-numbing process and felt his mind drift just a little as he listened to machine hiss.

He contemplated how best to carry himself given the little intel he had to go on for how this reality's Akechi Goro was supposed to act. Not that he wanted to neatly fit into whatever role Maruki had in mind for him but he would just rather avoid unnecessary complications in the mean time. He wished he'd listen more that advice in the past, but...well there was no point reflecting on that now.

So far the regular professionalism he adopted while working seemed to get him by. It had always been more "Detective" than "Prince" having just a little less of the fake charm he played up during interviews and instead being more concise and to the point with his words. He was already blistering aware adults, especially those within the upper echelons of power, had precious little time to waste.

He'd applied a similar tactic with Shido, dropping the act almost completely. Shido was quite well-versed in manufactured charisma after all, better at it even at least when it came to campaign speeches. He'd maintained some habitual pleasantries which seemed to annoy Shido but he absolutely despised it whenever Goro tried to treat him like an equal. Obviously he still hid his real intentions behind a specious smile, but perhaps not that well. Was that why his father's cognition of him was a psychopath who simultaneously wanted to die for Shido but hadn't been surprised by his betrayal?

The machine sputtered and he stared at it blankly for a moment before realizing he hadn't asked Takeuchi-san how he took his coffee. He poured two mug fulls to pre-empt the conversation of why he wasn't partaking and grabbed a handful of sweeteners thankful to have something, even the trivial act of carrying hot coffee, to distract him from his frankly pointless ruminations.

He handed the black liquid that could be, if one was feeling generous, coffee to Takeuchi who somehow seemed to have even more folders piled around him.

"Thanks Akechi-kun," the man smiled as he graciously wrapped his hands and took a whiff before asking, "Ready to get started?"

Goro stared at him trying to mask the confusion on his face. He really hopped this wasn't going be a trend. He eyed the stacks of paperwork, was this some of kind of backlog due to his disappearance? Why had they simply left it? Although had he even disappeared in this reality? All he knew was that for some impossible reason he was still a detective, he chalked it up to Maruki being sloppy. He had clearly been questioned by the police, perhaps under slightly different circumstances now but...

"Hmm," the older detective scratched his chin looking, "I suppose diving head first into cold cases wasn't what you had in mind after coming back from your leave of absence."

 _Leave of absence?_ his brain echoed. So was that how Maruki patched up the holes between the old reality and this one? He'd wondered briefly why the doctor had bothered but then hadn't Maruki said something to Kurusu about brining pain upon himself from clinging to the old reality?

"There's been a remarkable drop in crime lately so the chief figured it'd be a decent way for you to ride out your last couple weeks with us," Takeuchi admitted with a sheepish smile.

Ah, so he wasn't going to still be a detective after all. He decided to take a gamble based on the limited information he'd been able to glean so far, "I appreciate your concnern, " he affected a smile, "but I'm aware how it might look for the former-" he almost said Detective Prince but he wasn't sure that titled applied to him here, " _rising star_ of the Criminal Investigations Bureau to still be assigned to new cases."

"Nobody blames you, you know," Takeuchi uttered. Goro must of failed in preventing an ugly scowl from darkening his face because the man quickly followed up, "Sorry sorry, I know that was a bit out of line."

"No it's fine," Goro lied squashing the cocktail of emotions stirring in his gut in order to pursue his goal of learning all he could about this reality, "If you don't mind me asking, Takeuchi-san what exactly did they tell you?"

The man at the desk said nothing for a moment, eyeing him carefully before finally speaking in much more reserved tone than before, "Not much honestly, but...well...look you know word gets around," he looked down dejectedly for a moment, "I'm not sure exactly what you did for..." he trailed off again.

Goro didn't even need to be a detective, or whatever he was exatly, to realize who's name Takeuchi was about to say.

"Look we all thought he was upstanding individual, even the Superintendent-General and the late SIU director," he pursed his lips," Just between you and me I always had a weird feeling about that strange 'heart attack'," he whispered.

Goro just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he hadn't even broken a sweat when he blew that pitiful man's shadow to bits. Had Goro still been the one to kill him in this reality though? There were still so many things he didn't know.

"What I'm trying to say is...you're just a kid," he exhaled looking straight into Goro eye's, "I know that's not what you want to hear, and maybe your resignation doesn't feel like enough but personally I feel like the opposite, not that you ever cared much for my opinion anyway," he grinned.

"Takeuchi-san..." Goro frowned despite the truth of his words.

He wished just for a fleeting moment he knew the old Takeuchi better so he'd have a better point of reference to this strange adult offering him something besides the barely concealed sneers and backhanded compliments that had become his life working for the TMPD. He was angry of course, but not necessarily at Takeuchi who was just another marionette in Maruki's scheme. _Are you watching us puppet master?_ he wondered.

"It's your choice in the end, I can understand not wanting to have to rebuild your reputation almost from scratch," he shrugged before continuing, "Hopefully you find whatever it is your looking for," he paused again then startled to ramble, "Didn't you mention about going into photography? I suppose your eye for details would translate well enough."

 _Photography?_ his thoughts came to a halt. He fought back as wince as Loki shrieked with what someone might refer to as laughter.

**_Sá Banamaðr steina um víg_ **

He scoffed at Loki's allusion. Maruki really didn't know him did he? Photography sounded like some kind of placeholder occupation. Did the doctor also set him up in some boring university too? He knew back in reality he had missed the application period for spring enrollment, it wasn't like he planned to live long even if by some miracle his plan to crush Shido had worked.

"I really hadn't planned to bring down the mood before we even got into the mountains of paperwork," Takeuchi huffed shaking his head.

"I'll be fine, please don't worry about be Takeuchi-san."

"You always say that Akechi-kun," he protested before deciding to switch focus, "Alright well in any case do you think you could scan these re-reviewed old casefiles so we can digitize them to be emailed over to the tech-heads at SSBC?"

"Of course Takeuchi-san," he smiled hiding the near imperceptible twitch of his brow.

As he scanned the paper and paper he wondered once more if Maruki was watching him. Was he getting a laugh out of watching "The Detective Prince" be reduced to an office fairy? He leaned against the copier and sipped the sludge in his mug. He grimaced at it's bitterness, knowing he'd been spoiled not just by Leblanc's but specifically by that dumb would-be barista. Why did his coffee always taste a little sweet? Not that Goro really had a sweet-tooth as marketed to his ~~adoring~~ dumb fans, but...

The machine beneath him beeped signifying it was done with it's current and task and like a soulless salary man readied the next file. He wondered if this glorious future that awaited the Criminal Investigation Bureau in Maruki's "perfect reality". He sneered into his cup, almost pitying the poor fools. He couldn't say he was sad to be leaving, for however temporarily he was stuck in this reality, he wasn't even sure he wanted to be a detective anymore. 

Although if the doctor had thought that was his wish wouldn't have Maruki pulled some strings to allow him to continue? He kept coming back to what Maruki knew or didn't know about him. Ice ran up his spine piercing his brain with a cold realization, Kurusu must have mentioned him to Maruki. Enough that the doctor made the assumption he'd been happier doing something else. He wasn't sure if he was more angry that the counselor had presumed to know what's best or that he _just_ might be right.

He helped Takeuchi sort through more of the cold cases while the older detective worked through those that were already on the computer. He assured Goro some would eventually get assigned. Deep into the afternoon that it was almost evening Takeuchi leaned back into his chair and tried to get the teenage detective's attention.

"Akechi-kun, hey, Akechi-kun."

"Yes?" he responded not bothering to even look up from where he was buried in paperwork.

"C'mon you've been at the desk for hours you should go home."

Goro looked towards one of the windows and noticed it was still light out, "If this is because I'm still working on the Setagaya file, I apologize and beg you to just give me a few more minutes."

"Huh? No, look I know you've been here till late here before but these cases aren't going anywhere."

"But-"

"Don't you have school?"

"I'm on break..."

"Didn't they assign you any work for over the break? Besides I imagine you still might have work to catch up on"

"I-" Goro stopped. What would the point of that be, even assuming it was the case?

"C'mon I feel bad enough asking you come in during the holiday, trust me this will all be here tomorrow ok?"

"I assume you'll be expecting me the rest of the week?"

"Yeah sorry, but I promise I won't keep as long as I did today."

"Right," he uttered as he got up, confused for a moment .

Normally whenever was on break from school he was expected to be working practically sun up and sun down and once he got assigned over to the SIU it was often expected even when he wasn't. He began packing his things.

"Well thank you so much Takeuchi-san," he bowed before making his way towards the elevators.

"Relax, oh and hey Akechi-kun..."

Goro turned around expectantly from where he had started to walk off.

"Try to enjoy yourself ok?"

"Of course," he replied curtly with a thin smile.

He was steaming by the time he got back to the elevator. Later at home still stewing under his kotatsu he'd realize he hadn't looked up Shido's file.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okama bar - a gay bar more or less, don't know if it's ever explicitly stated as such but that's Goro's view of the Crossroads.
> 
> SSBC - Investigation Support Analysis Center (Sousa Sien Bunseki Center , abbreviation: SSBC) They mostly handle things from an electronic angle but also do criminal profiling. They are involved with all within the Metropolitan Police Department.
> 
> Sá Banamaðr steina um víg - "The Executioner paints during battle" (roughly)  
>  sá - the, that;   
>  banamaðr - executioner, killer, slayer (m)  
>  steina - paint (v)   
>  um - about, round; over, across; past, through, throughout; during;   
>  víg - battle, fight; homicide, manslaughter, killing (n) 
> 
> Loki is essentially making a joke here, and yes obviously "Sá Banamaðr" is another nickname he has for Akechi. I wanted to show the alternate translation for his words here specifically when it comes to "víg".

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are more than welcome. Apologies for any formatting issues.


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